Just Because It Burns
by lovingcaptainswan
Summary: Over the 4 months it took to save Henry, Emma and Killian had 4 times in Neverland and once in Storybrooke, each accompanied by a different feeling. Desperation. Anger. Jealousy. Passion. And finally - Love. Captain Swan. 5 part series.
1. Desperation

**Desperation**

The cold winds stung his cheeks as he opened the doors to the upper deck, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath of cool air. It smelled of salt and the sea and something vaguely unique to Neverland that he could never quite place, even with all of his years that he had spent there.

It had been 44 days since they had arrived in the faraway land's waters.

44 luckless days of new dangers and endless disappointment as they searched relentlessly for the Swan boy, that thus far, was nowhere to be found. _Not even a bloody clue._ As the days continued to pass by in a slow blur, with no further information on finding him, he felt the hope of his small 'crew' wavering. Arguments amongst each other erupted more easily the more discouraged they got – the majority of which coming from Emma Swan herself. _Gods, Emma._ That stubborn, beautiful, infuriating Emma. His growing feelings for her had weighed on him for some time now, constantly shoved away to the darker recesses of his mind by guilt. It had become easier since they hit their month mark of their search because by then, the weight of being the captain, of keeping them safe in a dangerous world while struggling to keep their hopes up enough for them to trust him to do so had begun to grow heavy on his shoulders. To his relief, he found himself able to think less about her and more about their sanity, but sometimes on a quiet evening when he was alone with his thoughts, she flitted back in.

It was just his luck that on a cold, windy night like this – quite uncharacteristic of Neverland's normally torrid climate - that he would both be thinking of her _and _he wouldn't be able to sleep.

Longer than he could honestly remember, Hook had always been in the habit of coming up on deck on restless nights. Since days past, long before he'd ever heard of a place called Neverland, the sea air, the lap of the waves, and the rock of the ship had calmed him when dark thoughts clouded his mind.

Tonight it was thoughts of failure.

He knew that when they set out on this journey it wouldn't be an easy one. They were searching a whole world for people that didn't want to be found, after all, but this wasn't like any other venture he had set out on. This was one of the few that truly _meant something_ to him, and unlike his quest for revenge, they didn't have time to brood and plot. Though he was by nature a patient man, he wasn't stupid. He knew very well that time could be running out. Whoever ultimately wanted Emma's child was up to no good and it was only so long before whatever had been planned for him was implemented.

And if or when it was, it would be _his fault_.

Hook let out a long sigh, opening his eyes and walking out onto the deck, as he had done hundreds of times before. The stars glistened in the sky, a thousand times brighter than he had seen in any other world. Yet another trick of Neverland's, soothing people into a lull of presumed safety with its indescribable beauty, day or night.

After a couple of paces, he stopped in his tracks, torn from his own thoughts when he heard a sound that he wasn't accustomed to hearing on his nightly strolls - muffled sobs from the opposite side of the ship. He furrowed his brow in concern, taking another tentative step forward and straining to make out the identity of the human form sitting on the deck in the darkness, curled up, arms wrapped around knees, back against one of the ship's walls. Exactly who it was became clear as he moved closer, his steps becoming surer the nearer he got.

"Swan?"

She lifted her head only slightly, too far gone into her sorrow to bother shuffling up into a less vulnerable position and just looked away. "Stop calling me that," she mumbled with a quiet sigh and a sniff.

"Emma…"

"Just go away, Hook."

Instead, he leaned against the railing a few feet away, glancing downward. "If you're Emma, then I think it's only fair that I be 'Killian', love."

She only shrugged in response, still refusing to look at him, and he couldn't tell if it was in agreement or just because she didn't know what to say.

"Are you alright?"

It was a stupid question. Of course she wasn't alright. She hadn't been alright since the day her son had been stripped away from her, and she wouldn't be alright until he was back in her arms… but she had always been so strong and defiant about it. He had never seen her cry.

"No, I'm not," she admitted with a humorless laugh that came out sounding more like a choked back sob. "Every day I don't find him is another day that he's with them. Whoever _they _are."

"It takes time, love," he said, pushing away his own prior thoughts of them running out of it. "He's a strong lad. He'll be fine."

"You don't even know him."

"I know his mother." There was a long, companionable silence between them, only interrupted by soft sniffs and shaky breaths. After a few moments, Hook stood straight. "Come on, Emma. You'll catch your death out here tonight."

"…he could be out here too…" Her voice was small and broken, lacking all of her previous sarcasm.

Hook didn't deny it, knowing that it was both entirely possible, and that his denial would fall on deaf ears regardless. Another small gust of wind blew past them, and he suddenly regretted leaving his long coat inside now, wishing to offer it to her, at least as a small comfort if she wouldn't listen to reason. "We both have to keep our strength up if we want to find him," he reminded her gently, and on a sudden impulse, added after a short pause, "…you don't have to be alone, you know."

For once, there was no hint of joke or innuendo in his words. He was tired of seeing her go through the motions of each day, letting herself slip into depression when she clearly _wasn't_ alone in this. It was a feeling he knew all too well in his years of mourning.

He waited for an answer or an indication that she wanted him to stay, but after a few seconds of watching her remain motionless, he nodded his goodnight and strode back across the deck.

When he got into his cabin, he went straight to the top drawer of his nightstand, retrieving the flask that had been his sole friend on many a long night. He took a long swig of it, hoping for the haze of the rum to calm the thoughts spinning around in his head that the sea air hadn't been able to, but instead, it just let new ponderings trickle in with the old.

He thought of Emma.

He thought of the trust they had built the past month, and what a quick learner she was to the ways of Neverland, even despite her rashness and hurry to find her son. He thought of her smiles, the rare but genuine ones she gave him now, rather than purely sarcastic ones she gave him when he teased her. Thoughts of him going back out there, of kissing her and telling her that it would be alright, of reminding her that they were a good team, of scooping her into his arms and into his bed, just holding her if that's all she wished.

Gods, what was it about this woman that made him forget who he was and who he had been for the last three centuries? How had she unwittingly woven her way into his very being like this? There was something about being on a quest for a similar cause that brought two people together, but this feeling was too strong for his liking.

He let another long swig slide down his throat, savoring the familiar burn and shaking his head at his own foolishness as he set the flask down. It would take a lot more than that to get him drunk enough to forget how she'd gotten into his head lately.

Hook began peeling himself out of his boots, his vest, and lastly his shirt, tossing them to the ground carelessly. Maybe sleep would come if he tried. His good hand fell to the laces of his trousers as he used his hook to pull back the covers on his bed, when a quiet knock sounded on his door. He laced himself back up and peered back behind him, curiosity playing in his eyes.

"Emma?"

The door creaked openly slowly, and he saw her clearly for the first time that night. She had done her best to wipe away the tears, but her eyes were still pink and puffy, her face pale and drawn with stress. She looked at him with a small shrug of her shoulders, silently responding to his confusion, as if she weren't doing anything out of the ordinary by waltzing into his quarters in the middle of the night.

"I didn't want to be alone."

She echoed his words from only minutes before and stepped inside, noiselessly shutting the door behind her. She seemed unfazed by his partial state of undress, something that surprised Hook, almost to the point of wanting to cover himself, at least to hide the bulky contraption on his arm, but instead he moved closer.

"You got anymore of that?" She nodded to the bottle of rum, and without saying a word, he passed it to her with a small smile. Surprising him once again, she took the flask and sat down onto his bed, taking a drink. "Thanks."

"Did you want to talk about it?"

Emma shook her head, but didn't seem to be disagreeing. "This is the first time I've cried about it. The first time I let myself think…"

She trailed off, but Hook didn't need her to continue to know what she had been going to say.

_She was worried about failing too. _

"Aye. But we can't think like that, Lass." He held out his hand and she gave him the flask. He took a small sip then set it back on the nightstand, this time not so worried about his thoughts.

"I wanted more of that," she grumbled softly.

He shook his head with a chuckle. "I don't need you to be drunk in my cabin in this state, Emma."

"Why not?" She teased lightly, though her expression still held a certain sadness.

A spark of electricity pulsed through his body and he had to scold himself for considering that she meant something by her jesting. "Love, if I have to explain that to you, then you_ really_ shouldn't be drinking in my cabin."

She raised an eyebrow, looking like she wanted to say something in response, something more Emma-like, but then sighed. The fact was, she wasn't feeling Emma-like. "I didn't want to be alone," she repeated, her eyes looking faraway and gloomy. "Plus, the door to the crew quarters is closed and my mother's a light sleeper. I don't really want to deal with questions of where I was or why my eyes are red right now," she laughed to herself, turning her head away and wiping her eye again when a lone tear slipped down her cheek.

He was touched that she would rather him see her cry than her own mother, but bewildered at the same time. _"We have an understanding," _her words played in his head. She knew that he knew how she felt. They were kindred spirits.

"So you're just going to sleep in the galley?" He let the question hang in the air for a minute when he noticed her shivering. Mentally reprimanding himself for not noticing sooner, he quickly grabbed the large blanket he slept with from behind them and draped it around her shoulders. "I told you you'd catch your death, love." He adjusted his seated position on the bed so he could fully face her, to make sure that there was nothing else that he had missed.

"I'm fine," she assured him, but smiled her thanks, letting it fill the pause. "…Why are you helping us?"

Killian shrugged then met her eyes with the tiniest grin tugging at his lips. "Maybe I just wanted to be a part of something." He sobered and his tone grew soft. "It just... felt more worth it to come back."

Instead of returning his smile as he had hoped, her expression dropped. Her lip trembled and she bit down on it hard as her face scrunched up and reddened, as if she were trying to hold back tears. She turned away from him once again, subconsciously pulling the blankets closer around her shoulders.

_God dammit_, now he'd upset her. "My apologies, Lass," he mumbled, ashamed that he hadn't read her well enough to know when to bloody shutup. "What did I say?"

She looked back into his worried face, with a gaze that was both filled with sadness, admiration, and intrigue. Her steady stare fell from his eyes and moved gradually down to his lips, his neck, his chest, and then back up to his shoulder where the leather straps held on his hook. A tingle went down his spine at the feelings her wordless, deliberate survey was giving him and after what felt like forever, she reached up to trace the leather with her fingertips. He unintentionally pulled back ever so slightly, almost embarrassed that she was seeing him like this, but there was no judgment in her eyes, only understanding.

"Emma…" he began, but he was unsure of what he had wanted to say or how to say it, so he didn't continue.

Emma sniffed again softly, her cheeks still red with emotion as she swallowed hard and without warning, dipped her head down, kissing the center of his bare chest softly. His breath left him in a gasp and he stilled, as if moving would cause the dream to end. Her lips moved over him like a whisper, barely touching, but leaving a burning sensation with each brush of her skin against his. Her hands rested at either side of his waist, slowly moving upwards and pushing him back onto the bed, crawling over him as she did so, never once stopping her feather-light kisses. Her tongue flicked out as she made her way to his stomach, and he moaned, his head swimming from the unexpected sensations. He felt his pants become tighter with every touch, knowing that his near instant arousal must be obvious to her, and it felt wrong – he was supposed to be comforting her, she had come to him, and there he was, letting her touch him so tenderly like he was the one that needed care. _Oh gods, but it felt so good._

"Emma… what are you doing, love?" He opened his blue eyes to search hers, her delicate body suspended over his – needing that one, last, ditch effort to snap her out of it, to give her the chance to stop.

"I'm_ tired _of feeling alone," she whispered, her voice wrought with emotion. "Help me feel something else."

Her begging words were all he needed to disregard his earlier misgivings and he snaked his hooked-arm around her waist, carefully rolling them over so he was on top. His arousal pressed hard into her leg and she instinctively lifted her hips to rub him, making him groan at the friction.

Unable to resist her any longer, he kissed her, his mouth moving against hers in a slow, sensual dance, his hand twisting in her golden hair, tangled from the lack of proper care. It reminded him of how she had looked the day that he had playfully commented on it, trying to get her mind off of her troubles. She had rolled her eyes in response, saying they had more important things to worry about than her hair, but he knew that his innocent comment had made her self-conscious. It amused him that she cared about how he saw her, especially when he hadn't meant any offense. In fact, he had thought the Neverland sun and the warm winds had made it look unkempt in quite the attractive way.

Straying from his thoughts and renewing his focus on the kiss, Hook nipped at her bottom lip, running his tongue over it and coaxing it open as he slipped his hand underneath her shirt. She pushed against him and began to sit up, opening her mouth and plunging her own tongue into his with an equal fervor, kissing him slowly, deeply. She didn't break the kiss until she was forced to by him ushering the shirt carefully up and over her head.

She was beautiful, but he had already known that. What amazed him was her newfound fragility. She had become so soft, so gentle, so _vulnerable_ in every movement, in every look - qualities she seemed to try to hide from others, as if seeing her in that light would allow them to take advantage. He felt with a start that this was the true Emma Swan that she rarely let anyone see.

As soon as the piece of attire was gone, he lowered himself on top of her, gently pinning her against his pillows so she was half sitting up and half lying down. She let out a small gasp at the pleasantness of his weight against her body, wrapping her arms around his back, one hand entangling into his hair and a thrill ran through Hook at their closeness as he descended on her again.

They continued to kiss for some time, fluctuating between deep and passionate and gentle caresses of the others' lips, thoroughly, painstakingly exploring the other, and he was so engrossed in what they were doing, he almost forgot to breathe. Finally breaking away, knowing that they didn't have the time that he wished to truly take her, he moved forward. Hook trailed his way down her jaw as his good hand snuck up her chest, cupping her breast. He nuzzled her neck, brushing her hair out of the way and breathing in her scent, marveling at how soft her skin was against his stubbly, rough cheek. Emma let out a pleased sigh and arched her back slightly when she felt his hand slip beneath her bra and brush her nipple his thumb. She pressed her neck harder against his hot mouth, gasping again when he took the opportunity to work his way up further and nibble her earlobe, sucking on it lightly.

"This… is just… just for tonight," she gasped in between kisses as he moved back to her mouth, and for the first time, a hint of the broken, defensive Emma came back, as if reminding him that she couldn't be tamed so easily, that she wasn't entirely broken.

"Shh, I know, love," he murmured, not wanting either of them to worry about what this meant or where this was going. "… Tonight we're_ both_ tired of being alone," he whispered, remembering his own self-deprecating contemplations from earlier.

She made a tiny, whimpering sound in her throat, and she bit her lip hard again, just like she had minutes before when she had turned away from him. She pressed her hips into his firmly, indicating that she wanted him to continue, and wrapped a hand around his neck tracing kisses from his ear to his collarbone. Sensing her insistence, he tugged at her bra, pulling away from her touch reluctantly to look at it in mild confusion. When he lifted his hook to rid her of the annoying article of clothing, she caught his wrist.

"I've got it," she said quickly, reaching behind her to un-do the clasps and letting it fall away from her body, not even giving him a moment to look before pulling him back down on her.

"Gods, Emma," He groaned at the feeling of her hardened nipples against his chest and the way she was writhing beneath him, unbuttoning her jeans. For a second time, he was tempted to simply tear them away from her body, but instead he helped her strip them off, then moving his hand to his own, deftly untying the laces.

When they were completely bare to each other, Hook finally took a moment to look at her, losing his breath at how stunning she was. His eyes hungrily searched her body until he reached her eyes. Her face was no longer puffy from crying, but the empty, mournful look in her eyes caught him off guard.

Noticing his hesitancy, Emma reached up, brushing his cheek with her fingers, imploring him not to leave her alone as she had before. Without waiting for him to answer, she kissed him softly, pressing her lips into his, one hand still on his cheek and the other drifting down to his cock.

His body twitched under her touch and g_ods_, he wanted her so badly. But even moreso, he wanted to stop the hurt, his hurt _and _hers. He wanted to give her what she needed and selfishly, he wanted her to give the same to him, as if their two broken souls could come together as one and forget the pain that they had tried to get rid of for so long now.

The pain that was there long before they came to Neverland.

She guided him to her entrance, and he pushed his hips forward just barely, overcompensating to avoid thrusting into her roughly like his body was begging him to do. He inhaled sharply when the tip slipped inside of her and he let himself sink in a couple of inches before pulling back, slowly working his way into her. Her half seated, half lying position made her feel intoxicatingly taut beneath him and he didn't want to hurt her. He felt her hips rise, urging him on yet again, and with that final permission, he began to move.

And then he was lost.

Hook groaned at how wet she was, how easily he slid back and forth inside of her, how she whimpered with pleasure the deeper he got, and _bloody hell_, in that moment he had mad thoughts of loving her. He knew the idea was naïve and ridiculous, like a virgin pledging forever allegiance to their first just because they were _the first_. But he couldn't help the overwhelming sense of euphoria that came with every mewl and moan from the woman beneath him. He felt her body relax into him completely with each thrust, as her hips pumped up and down in a stable rhythm in time with his own.

Suddenly, he pulled her body further down the bed so she was lying fully on her back. On the next thrust, he almost withdrew from her completely before entering her again, taking her deeply and fully with every slow drive. He watched her eyes roll back and her head loll to the side as a cry escaped her lips. His movements were a delicious torture for them both, filling her so completely and then retreating only to return again, his ministrations just slow enough to build them up, but not enough to let them fall until they were ready. They met each other's every movement with the fluidness of practiced lovers who had done this dance for years – and in a way, they had, though not physically. They had somehow always been a team. They had always known how to move together, whether it be in the form of a sword fight or playful banter.

Emma's chest began to heave as her eventual orgasm started to form deep in her abdomen. Her hands clutched the blankets at her sides and her legs wrapped around his waist allowing him even deeper. "Don't stop," she sighed, writhing with want for him. Her hands trailed up his body to grip his shoulders, pressing them impossibly nearer together.

This woman was going to be his undoing.

"I never want to stop, Emma," he moaned the intimate words without meaning to, scaring himself with the feelings this closeness was invoking deep within him.

But he _didn't_ want to stop.

He wanted to stay inside of her forever, to make her feel this good as long as possible, even if he never found his own release.

And she was so close. He could feel it

Hook rest his forehead into the crook of her neck, altering his rhythm once again. He stayed deep inside of her, thrusting shallowly now, not allowing himself to leave her warmth. This new movement caused his pelvis to rub against the sensitive bud of nerves between her legs with every jump of his hips.

"Oh, god… yes, please," the string of words tumbled out of her mouth as he continued to stroke against her most sensitive area, his hand alternating between tweaking her nipple and fondling the breast it belonged to, his lips ravishing her throat with kisses with a new eagerness. Her breathing got heavier as the seconds passed, but he refused the temptation to rut into her harder. He wanted her like this, slow and gentle like the rocking of the ship against the waves, their bodies arching together, with barely any space being allowed between them.

"Look at me, love," he murmured, brushing her chin with his lips as he continued. His voice shook ever so slightly and sweat started to bead on his forehead. Her eyes fluttered open, her expression so full of trust and need and then in an instant, she tightened around him, her face contorted into a look of pure bliss, her orgasm washing over her unexpectedly. Her eyes closed and her entire body tensed as she let the feeling take her over.

"Killian!"

He allowed himself to pull out of her a bit more now, to pump a little faster as he felt her body tauten and release, but he still took her gently.

"Killian, Killian, Killian," the name she had hesitated to use for fear of growing attached from the first day they met, now spilled from her over and over, getting quieter and quieter as the pleasure of her release gradually dissipated. Still, she clung to him with a vice grip, as if he too would be taken from her in this moment, as if he would leave her. Her parents, countless foster families, Henry's father, Graham, even her son – some not of their own choosing – had left her at some point and in this vulnerable instant, she clung to him like he was all she had left in the world that had thought enough of her to come back.

Hook groaned sharply, a string of curses flooding out with it, unable to care any longer if anyone else could hear, trembling and thrusting in an erratic rhythm as his own release approached.

"_Killian_."

She continued to breathe his name and he's had many a woman cry it out in the throes of passion, but rarely with this amount of desperation, and never, since Milah, had it made him feel like this when they did.

"_Emma_," with her name on his lips and a final thrust, Killian shattered. He moaned into her shoulder repeatedly as the waves passed over him. He was still moving lightly inside of her, his voice taking on a needy, lilting tone, so different from the deep, controlled groans from before.

When the pulses of pleasure finally subsided, he lifted his head and captured her lips passionately, finding it difficult to contain the feelings still overtaking him even as his exhaustion spread. Emma responded in kind, fingers still pressed into his shoulders, not clawing as he had expected, but simply cleaving to him all the more until they were breathless.

They seemed to break the final kiss as one, as if they had simultaneously been struck by the same, uneasy sense as reality cruelly crept back into their psyches. They were both breathing hard, staring into each other's eyes, bodies still entangled, when suddenly, something awoke and they slowly began to pull themselves from each other, the feelings they had created hitting them hard now that they weren't distracted.

Emma immediately stood up to retrieve her clothes, pressing her legs together as she began to dress in a shaky but hurried fashion, refusing to meet his gaze that could burn a hole into the back of her head. Hook absentmindedly picked up his own trousers, not sure why he was dressing if he had been planning on going to bed anyway, but it felt less awkward than letting this silent motionlessness continue.

_This was wrong._

_This was so wrong. _

He wanted to wrap her in his arms and fall asleep, to tell her that she never had to leave, that she never had to be alone - but now that he was no longer touching her, now that they were no longer interlocked, harsh criticisms and fear pounded into his head for allowing himself to feel what he had.

Feelings he hadn't felt for 300 years.

"Emma-"

"You don't have to say anything, Killian," she interrupted him quietly, fastening her bra around her chest. "This…this was-"

"Just for tonight," he finished the sentence almost gruffly, with a solemn nod.

She glanced back, a little surprised that he was agreeing with her after what she had felt emanating from him while he had been inside of her. "Yeah…" she replied, copying his nod as she continued to dress.

"Do you want me to walk you back, love?"

Emma's face softened, "I'm fine… _thank you_, Killian."

And he knew she was thanking him for everything that night, and not solely the gentlemanly offer to walk her back to her quarters. He also knew it was probably the only thanks or mention of the night that he'd ever get.

She moved towards the door slowly, almost lingering, as if looking for a reason to stay. Hook could tell from the look on her face that she had felt everything that he had, and it had scared her just as much.

"…We shouldn't do this again." She said the words that he couldn't, further cementing the sentiment that this was an act of need, of desperation, and nothing more.

"Aye," he agreed, searching her eyes for a brief instant before lowering them again, not sure of what else needed to be said. "Sleep well, Swan."

She hesitated, her fingers poised on the doorknob, casting him a final smile. "You too, Hook."

* * *

_**A/n: So that is part 1 of 4 of "Just Because It Burns" (inspired by the Pink song "Try"). I know I wrote a similar situation (desperate, emotional sex in Neverland) in "Make Me Feel, If Only For A Moment" but I did try to make this quite different. it's just that "first time, desperate, sad, emotional sex" is one of my headcanons for them, so when it's set in Neverland, it just happens. lol! I hope you enjoyed it! The next feeling will be "Anger", and will be written especially for "AngelBaby214", who prompted me to write something similar on tumblr (I'm lovingcaptainswan there and often accept fic prompts there if you'd like to ask for them!)**_

_**Review?**_


	2. Anger

**_A/n: Thanks to everyone for the response! I love you all! Also, special thanks to "_****_xoxphoenix10_****_" for prompting me to add "Jealousy" to this series. I knew that something was missing between "Anger" and "Passion", based on what I have plotted out in my head, and I wasn't going to do it at first, but the idea has really grown on me. So there will now be 5 chapters, instead of 4. Yay!_**

**_Now onto the WARNING for this chapter. This is a fic that involves smut, obviously, but this chapter in particular will involve very rough/angry sex and heavy cursing at one point (as the title of the chapter, 'Anger', probably implies), quite different from the first chapter (though who says the type in the first chapter won't come back?) so if those types of things upset you, you might not want to read. I will assure you that it is 100% consensual and all a part of the process for them, just another emotion that drives them to the eventual 'Love', but I thought I should warn you all, just in case. _**

**_That said, this is Emma's POV - I hope you enjoy!_**

* * *

**Anger**

Emma trudged through the dense, tropical forest, sweat dripping down her body in an annoying, warm trickle that felt like bugs crawling down her back. She wasn't sure how the seasons worked in Neverland, but she already hated this one. From what she'd experienced in the last 72 days there, it was little bits and pieces of her own world all crammed into one. It looked like Hawaii, had more dangerous animals and plants that wanted to kill you than Australia, and had temperatures like the deserts of Africa. The nights had changed from pleasantly warm, to biting cold, and during the long days, the heat of the island's sun beat down on them mercilessly, the jungles acting like a sauna beneath the thick, shading leaves of the trees around them. She'd had to be warned more than once about heat stroke when Hook had caught her looking fit to pass out on their many searches.

She knew one thing for sure about Neverland, and that was that she sure as hell wasn't going to cry too much about leaving the place once they found Henry.

Another droplet of sweat slid between her shoulder blades. She didn't know how Hook could stand it, usually dressed all in multiple layers of black – though today, he had left his long coat behind, settling for only his boots, leather pants, and a long sleeved black shirt, puffy sleeves pushed up midarm. If not for the bit of skin of his forearms showing, he would have looked like a sort of maskless ninja, all in black and brandishing his sword like that. A ninja or Dread Pirate Roberts.

Emma's lips curved into a tiny smile at the thought, momentarily picturing him with a _Princess Bride_-esque mask, but quickly dropped it when a particularly loud insect buzzed in her face. She stumbled back and swatted at it, shuddering slightly when it disappeared behind them. As much as she hated to admit that Hook's many speeches had been correct, it did seem like almost everything in this place _could_ kill her, and it definitely made her a little jumpy. Collecting herself, and pleased that he didn't think it necessary to glance back, she kept walking. Her hand gripped the sharp dagger Hook had given her in case they should run into any trouble, and it had served her well this particular afternoon, slicing and hacking as best she could at the thick shrubbery that he didn't swipe away with his sword.

"Where are we headed anyway?"

She shocked herself when she realized that they had separated off from the other group just over an hour ago and she hadn't thought to ask him before this. It'd been a few weeks shy of 3 months since they had journeyed through the portal to Neverland, and if anyone had asked her then, she would have told them that they were with Hook because he had something that they needed – it would have been half a lie, but she would have told it regardless– but she hadn't expected to trust him like this.

Their passionate night together hadn't exactly done anything to discourage trusting him either. She had expected it to. She had built her walls back up in double-time, determined not to let her vulnerability slip again. Still, as high as she had put up her walls that night and the days following their tryst, she had expected him to joke in private, to hint and smirk, to eventually embarrass her in front of her parents, Gold, and Regina, unable to keep from bragging about the conquest – but nothing came. Other than occasional lingering looks, he hadn't spoken directly or implied a word about that night, he'd barely even looked her in the eye, something that was both appreciated and unnerving.

Did he not want to talk about it either?

Not that it upset her, not initially or in the expected way. She had written off the night as a mistake. It was a breach in her armor that wouldn't happen again – not the sex per se, she hadn't really thought through how she felt about that aspect of it, aside from the obvious – but if it did, it wouldn't happen again _like that_, so open and unguarded. She couldn't deny that he had an uncanny way of making her _feel _things, specifically things that she wasn't ready to feel.

"-smoke rising a few more miles from here last night."

Emma jerked back to attention when she realized that Hook had answered her question that she had forgotten that she had even asked. "Say that first part again?"

He looked over his shoulder at her for the first time, giving her an odd look, but quickly reverting his attention to his previous target ahead of him. "I said, we're going to a part of this jungle that I'm somewhat familiar with, though I haven't been there in years. It's in the jungle, but is really more of a break in it. It was often used as a campsite for the Lost Ones. An open meadow that spans about half a mile, forming a large circle in the middle of all of this. I saw smoke coming from this direction last night."

Emma's heart jumped in her throat, and for a moment, she felt hot with anger that he hadn't told her sooner. "And you didn't think that was important enough to tell me until now?"

"You just asked me now, love."

"That's not what I meant!" She snapped, feeling every nerve in her body begin to pulse with a strange combination of hope and agitation. The heat of the sun forgotten, she continued on with a longer stride and a new resolve.

Henry.

They could be_ so_ close to Henry.

Suddenly, Hook stopped in his tracks, turning to face her, causing her to nearly run into his chest. She let out a frustrated curse as she dug her heels into the ground to avoid tipping forward. "I didn't tell you before, because I knew that you'd get like this. I assure you, Emma, he won't be there."

"How could you know that?"

"Because it was last night. They never stay long in one place. Even if we had set out when I saw the fumes, we would have been too late."

"Then why bother?" She nearly growled, refusing to let her hope wane now that they had their first, real, solid clue of where her son could be. It wasn't mutterings and maybes from flirtatious mermaids, or 'feelings' from the pirate captain – it was real.

"Because, Lass," he went on patiently. "Though they used to have a home, The Lost Ones are now nomadic. If we find their old camp, we may be able to guess where they are headed next. Honestly, Swan, for an ex-_bounty hunter_, you seem to know little of actual tracking."

She didn't know why, but his words stung. Probably because they were true, and not just some childish insult being slung her way. She had let her emotions get the best of her around him. _Again_. She didn't even know why she had questioned going to the camp to begin with, except for maybe the pull of a buried, petty need to argue with the man. Slowly, Emma took a deep breath and shook her head. "I know about tracking, Hook, I'm just… impatient."

"I know," he replied in an unsettlingly understanding tone of voice. "Just keep your wits about you for a few more miles," he finished with a firm nod, refusing to look her in the eyes as he turned on the ball of his booted foot, leading the way once again.

"How long until we meet back with the others?"

"Nightfall won't come for hours, Swan. I just hope they remember how to get back to the ship without getting bloody eaten." He hadn't been a big supporter of the idea to split up, but after months of searching and learning all that they could about the island, the idea had grown on the others until he had finally relented.

"Regina and Gold have magic. They'll be able to protect themselves with it, and they'll be able to find a way back."

"Hopefully without calling too much attention to their location."

Emma shook her head and decided to just shut her mouth, knowing that this wasn't an argument that could be won. Though she had fought him to let them go, she hadn't been entirely comfortable with the idea either. In the end, she couldn't argue with weeks of lectures on identifying poisonous versus edible plants and how to avoid many of Neverland's traps and other assorted dangers, combined with their abilities with magic. Concerned she was, but she was also glad that they were willing to risk it if it meant getting them to Henry faster. _He_ was her main concern right now.

A rustle of brush and tramping of feet sounded, accompanied by the dull drone of quiet voices. The first hints of the noise were too quiet for Emma to notice, but Hook froze immediately, holding up his hand to order silence. If every nerve had been twitching before, they were absolutely on fire now, every sense tingling as the sounds registered in her brain.

There were people close by. They weren't close enough to see them, but they were around.

_Henry. Henry. Henry. _

His name was being chanted in her mind like a mantra as she stood still as one of the trees, waiting for some indication from Hook that they should move.

Finally, he casually reached his hand back, beckoning for her to take it with her own. Every other muscle in his body appeared to be perfectly motionless. Hesitating only momentarily, she grasped it, and only then did he move his head to meet her eyes then tipped it towards a large group of bushes and shrubs a few yards behind them. Emma had no time to think of the countless bugs and thistles that could lay inside and followed him where he led her trustfully, crouching low until they were crawling behind and almost inside of the plants.

She cast him a worried look, both of them lying flat on their stomachs, peering through the dense but small leaves that hid them.

"Easy, Lass…" he warned in a breath so thin, she almost didn't hear his words, but she could feel it, hot against her hair. "They'll be coming this way."

Her hand that wasn't still gripping his was curled around her dagger tightly, every part of her poised to attack.

"Let them pass." She glanced over at him sharply with questioning eyes. "This is a scouting mission, not a battle. Don't attempt anything foolish," he continued under his breath as the rustling and voices gradually got closer.

Emma didn't know if it was seconds, minutes, or hours before he saw the bare, dirty feet and legs wearing tattered clothes pass before her eyes, but when they did, it sent an ugly shiver down her spine. There were a lot of them, at least ten, from her count, and they were no more than 20 feet away from them. A billowy, dark, smoke-like figure, floating just off of the ground, followed along behind them at a much slower pace. Emma moved her eyes upwards to see its head turning to the left, then the right, surveying the area. When it looked in their direction, she felt as if her heart stopped and her blood went cold, and she subconsciously held onto Hook's hand even tighter. He returned it with a small, comforting squeeze, his stare trained on the Lost Ones in front of them. The billowy shadow finally turned back, giving what appeared to be a sharp nod to the jungle, then swiftly moved ahead to the front of the group, now quite a bit away from them.

Emma felt her breath begin to come back to her, when another loud rustle sounded and two other 'boys', if that's what they were, stepped out into the clearing, pulling a third, smaller child behind them. His wrists were bound by ropes and his clothes were tattered but somehow different than the others'.

"Hey, take it easy!"

A familiar voice echoed through the small clearing and Emma's head swam with indiscernible emotion, the voice brought so many feelings straight to her chest. Almost before she could connect the voice to the figure whose face she couldn't quite see through the branches, Hook released her hand and wrapped his arm around her neck in a headlock, covering her mouth so hard, she almost couldn't breathe, even if she hadn't been holding her own breath. Remarkably silently, with only a slight rustle of dried leaves crunching beneath them, he turned onto his side enough to slam her into his chest, tucking her close so her upper body couldn't move, a leg coiling over her two. She could feel his body trembling, he was holding her so tightly, and the curve of his hook rest against her side.

And all at once, as he was wrapping his body around her like a snake, it hit her. Henry!

Having reacted half a second sooner than she had, Hook had prepared himself for the struggle that ensued, fighting to bite back a groan when her head flew back and hit him in the jaw. Emma's eyes were wild with panic, and she didn't even register the pain as the nails of his good hand accidentally dug into her cheek, holding her tighter when a very muffled squeal rose from her throat.

He held her even after they had been long gone, one minute, then two, then three. Finally he released her, and she fell limply from his arms, having little fight left in her for the moment. That is, until he opened his mouth again.

"Emma, I'm sor-"

He was cut off when a well-placed elbow caught him squarely in the solar plexus, causing him to lose his breath, as she quickly shuffled up, shaking off the bite of the thistles that she hit while tearing out of the brush. Hook groaned softly while moving to stand and follow her before she could get far.

"Emma," he used her true name again, knowing that this was no time for 'loves' or 'lasses' or even 'Swans'. "They had the shadow with them, there was no way that we could defeat them alone. Not without some kind of magic – someone who knew how to use their magic," he corrected himself. "Even with it, Henry would have been in serious dan-"

"Don't you say his name! Don't you_ ever_ say his goddamn name, Hook," Emma whirled around, nostrils flaring, eyes flashing with unspeakable amounts of rage.

Hook didn't reply, his blue eyes growing dark and stormy with pain and regret, wishing that he hadn't been forced to do what had just been done. Instead, he took a deep, full breath and slowly let it out, nodding in the direction that they needed to go.

They didn't speak another word as they walked back to the Jolly Roger, but Emma was nearly boiling over with anger, every doubt about him rising to the surface with every step.

He betrayed her. She had trusted him and that stupid fucking pirate had betrayed her, once again proving that he only cared about himself. He wasn't going to help them. He let them get away with her son. Her _son_. He had promised to help them rescue Henry, and what had he done? Held her back. Not even let her _try_, much less helped her! She couldn't give a shit if he had saved her life, it had never been about _her _life, it was about Henry's, and now he was gone, swept back into the endless jungle with that… thing. She shuddered again at the memory of it, sure that its glowing eyes could look through her into her soul if it had tried. Did Henry feel that when it came near? Did he feel that same fear everyday? Emma clutched her dagger at her side at the thought, doing everything in her power not to thrust it at the man beside her for the rest of the trip.

She couldn't believe she had been stupid enough to fall for his act. She couldn't believe she had considered trusting him.

The air had begun to cool by the time they reached where they had anchored the ship, paddling out to it on one of the two lifeboats that awaited them at the shore. It was still a few hours before darkness would hit, which meant she would have to spend them alone, with Hook, with no one to protect him or her from the feelings being pushed down inside of her, threatening to explode.

Shortly after they stepped onto the Jolly and she saw his back to her, she couldn't help herself. Her dagger fell to the ground out of her hand, and with two open palms, she shoved him, _hard_. Not expecting the attack, he tripped forward and would have fallen, had he not been close enough to the mast to catch his fall. He turned around, his face a sickening mix of annoyance and empathy.

"Gods, Emma, if you have something to say, just say it. No one can hear us now."

"Y-you just-you left him there!" She stuttered, not expecting him to welcome the fight.

"Yes, I did. Go on."

"You promised to help us!"

"Believe it or not, darling, I am helping you," he replied in an even tone, watching her for a long moment, waiting for her to continue, before turning and walking down the steps to his quarters.

"You fucking son of a bitch!" She words came out in a yell so loud, her voice cracked from the strain. Now she was moving towards him faster, following him into his cabin. "You stupid, piece of shit, pirate!"

He whipped around to meet her. "Yes, and what else?" His voice raised a notch in volume.

"He could die!"

"He's alive now, it means they need him for something. They're not going to kill him."

"But we could have saved him," the desperation in her voice was beginning to get to her. She didn't want to be desperate, she wanted to be angry. She didn't want to cry, she wanted to scream. She remembered his body twisting around her, his nails digging into her cheek, him holding her head to his chest and holding her so tightly that it wouldn't have mattered if Henry was there or not because she couldn't move a muscle.

All at once, the anger returned.

"What the_ fuck_ is wrong with you?" She shoved him forward again. "What? You pretend to help us and then do whatever the fuck you want?" She paused only long enough to take a gasping breath. "I'm so stupid! I thought you were changing but you only care about yourself. You could never care about anyone but yourself!" She spat out her words like venom.

His expression hardened, his lips pursed into a thin line. "I was trying to protect you."

"You weren't trying to protect me, you were trying to protect yourself, Killian!" She stopped and her look of anger faltered when she realized that she had let his name slip.

"Emma," he said her name, and she hated how he could say so much with a look and that single word.

"I don't give a shit about what you have to say, Hook," she snapped bitterly, the sight of Henry's dirty face replaying in her head. "I don't give a shit about you, and I don't need you trying to protect me, got that? As far as I'm concerned, you're our damned tour guide."

"So what is it, love? Man or monster? Am I supposed to be protecting you or hindering your journey? You seem confused." He taunted in a growl, gritting his teeth. "Am I Hook or Killian?"

"Shutup."

"What? You don't like hearing my name? After hearing you moan it so many times, I assumed we were on a first name basis now." It was a low blow, but she had crossed the line first. "…So now you have nothing to say? Let's talk about that night-"

"I have nothing to say about it because it wasn't even a good fuck," she finished, attempting to spin on her heel and leave on that incredibly childish note, when his hook snagged her belt loop with skillful precision and yanked her back towards him so hard that the loop broke, making her stumble backwards. When she faced him again, his brows were furrowed and his jaw was set hard.

"Wasn't it?"

"Wasn't what?"

"It a good _fuck_?" he hissed out the words, color rising to his face as he became truly angry for the first time since they'd set foot on the ship. "That's all you wanted, correct? To use the stupid pirate who is risking his life and limb for you for _a good fuck_? Let's talk about selfish, Lass, why don't we talk about you? If I hadn't held you back, we'd both be dead right now, _both _of us," he enunciated in a snarl, "and guess what, Love? No one would know! There would be no trail to follow to your boy because we were bloody separated, which you and the lot of them insisted upon. You may be a fast learner, darling, but you're too stubborn. This whole bloody venture you've been fighting me, undermining my knowledge of this place because you think it'll get you your son faster, but here's the truth of it - it's just going to get you and your precious family killed!"

"But what if it didn't?" She screamed, waving her arms at him in time with her words to emphasize her point. She took a shaky breath, meeting his eyes with an icy gaze. "All I know is that if you hadn't been such a coward, I might have my son right now."

He stiffened, waiting a long, pregnant pause before continuing. "Do you want to hit me again, or are you quite finished?"

She shook her head, eyes still burning with fury as she rolled them at him. "You're not worth the energy."

Once again, she turned to leave, and once again, she was caught by the arm, roughly being pulled back and flush into his body, his lips crushing into hers hard. She pulled back sharply, staring into his flashing eyes.

"You want to take all that fury out on me, Emma? Then do it," he growled.

She looked at him for barely a second before kissing him again full force, her anger now coming out in a much more physical form. It felt good to give into it, the rush, the anger, the doubt, everything being poured – more like thrown – into that next kiss.

There was nothing gentle or sensual about their lips meeting.

Her fingers closed around the soft fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer forcefully while delving deep in his mouth with her tongue. A chill of anticipation ran through her when he returned the kiss with an equal fervor, an equal frustration. Good. She wanted him angry. She wanted to fight, and this was the best way she knew how.

She broke the kiss and took a short breath, only returning to his mouth to bite down hard on his lower lip, slowly closing further, eliciting a pained grunt from Hook, who only dug his fingers harder into her hip. He wrapped his hooked arm tightly around her waist, attempting to kiss her even though she had him grasped firmly between her teeth. At last, she released him, and he ran his tongue against it from the inside, smiling darkly at the small teeth marks he felt and the vague taste of blood of skin that had barely been broken.

"Is that how you want it, Lass?"

Emma looked defiant and unremorseful, and leaned in for another bruising kiss, when he spun them around, shoving her into the wooden wall beside them. A small gasp left her mouth as he parted her legs with his knee and pressed it upward, all the while assaulting her mouth with hard, dominating kisses. She couldn't stop the moan that caught in her throat as his clothed knee rubbed against her core again and his lips dragged a moist path to her neck, nipping and sucking until he heard another needy groan leave her. Not wanting to be outdone, she moved one of her hands down to the laces of his pants, first rubbing the growing bulge that was cruelly held back by the natural tautness of his leather, then squeezing it with a tighter grip than necessary, causing his controlled movements to waver.

He growled and bucked into her hand before he moved to snatch it away, catching her wrist against the wall in the empty curve of his hook, moving it above her head. He quickly repeated the motion with his good hand, leaving her helpless against him as he pressed his body against hers and moved his mouth to her ear.

"So you want it rough this time, Swan?"

Emma jerked her hips into his, still seething with anger. She didn't need this lengthy play for power. She needed something physical to take out her emotions on, she needed to forget.

"Tell me you want this, Emma. I won't take you unwillingly."

She struggled stubbornly against his grip, wanting to reach his lips and kiss him to shut him up, but the way he was holding her against the wall, she was defenseless. After a short pause of them staring each other in the eyes, both looking equally fierce, she huffed and clenched her hands in his grip.

"Just shutup and fuck me."

Hook released her immediately, allowing her arms to encircle him and her hand to tangle violently in his dark mane, nails lightly scraping his scalp and pulling strands of hair as they kissed. Clothes came off in a blur, and Emma could hardly distinguish what she had taken off herself, and what he had. Kicking out of her underwear, the last piece of clothing was discarded, and she felt herself being pressed into the wall again. His lips closed around first one nipple, then the other, nipping them hard enough to pinch, but much more politely than she had been with his lip. His mouth moved up her breast, biting down again, sucking hard and marking her as his. Emma gasped, arching against him, and dropped her hand between them, curling it around his hardened length, stroking it back and forth and relishing the sound when he groaned.

Suddenly, his hand and hook were at her waist. She barely had time to react before she was bent over the mid height dresser beside his bed and her heart thudded with desire. The feeling of the cold wood made her flinch as she moved her hands to grip the sides of the piece of furniture instinctively, and she didn't notice him positioning himself against her until he thrust in, taking her completely.

Emma's vision swam with black dots beneath her closed eyelids and her mouth parted with a sharp cry. An electric pulse of pleasure combined with a small spark of pain vibrated through her core at the unexpected intrusion and her curse-filled moans spilled out as he began to move inside of her at a relentless pace. She rocked back against him just as roughly, taking him in deeper, harder, spurring on his thrusts and taking every vulnerable groan she got from his as a reward.

The dresser she was gripping shook from the force of it and after a particularly strong thrust, the small, unlit lantern that sat upon it, toppled to the ground with a crash. Momentarily distracted by the noise, Hook slowed, then pulled out of her and led her to the bed. Emma turned to face him and he pushed her back so that her legs hung off of the edge, her back flat against the mattress. She started to reposition herself so she wasn't dangling off of the cot, but found herself being moved back.

"Get back here," he ordered possessively in a gruff whisper and grasped her leg, yanking her into him.

She hastily wrapped her legs around his waist, guiding him back into her and she hissed and bit her lip when he filled her again. "Faster," she moaned, clawing into his forearms and his own fingers dug deep crescents into her hip as he slammed into her again. "Dammit, Hook, _fuck _me!" Something wild and angry drove her to taunt him. She already knew that she'd be sore and achey and marked after this, but she didn't care. She wanted more. She _needed_ more.

The pirate snarled in response, using his good hand to loop under her leg and place it over his shoulder, indicating that she do the same with her other one. Her thighs were resting solidly against his chest as he pushed into her again, watching her eyes go wide as he took her the deepest he had gone yet. "Is this what you wanted, love?" He groaned out through grit teeth. "Captain-bloody-Hook-_taking you_?" he articulated each word of the last sentence with a savage drive into her that sent stars flying in front of her eyes.

She had wanted to fight back, to say something biting, but the glorious blend of pleasure and pain and god-sent relief that was washing over her as he worked her over was too much. All she managed was a drawn out 'yes', eyes closed, head pressed hard into the bed. She could feel his thrusts becoming erratic, the force behind them varying, and she knew he was getting close, but she wasn't there yet.

"Harder," she moaned again, and he responded with a particularly forceful plunge that sent her body jerking away, a pained cry leaving her lips.

Immediately, the anger in his eyes disappeared and Killian was back in an instant once he'd recognized the cry hadn't been from pleasure. "Gods, Emma, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, love." He stopped his movements entirely, moving her legs back to his waist, shame flooding his expression for allowing his anger to take over with her.

But Emma wasn't quite through with her anger.

"No!" she bucked her hips up wildly. "Don't you dare stop. I'm fine, don't stop," her words left her like a plea. She didn't want him to stop. She didn't want to face the consequences of what they were doing, she didn't want to think about what she was trying to forget. "Hook…"

Hook knew he had merely hit her a bit too roughly at the wrong angle, but as the adrenaline pumping through his blood slowed, guilt replaced it. "Emma, this is wrong," he said, breathing heavily, easing them further onto the bed.

Once their positions were adjusted, her head lying against the pillow, she lifted her hips, urging him to continue. Hook moaned softly, her frantic movements making him twitch inside of her. "Emma," he pushed his hips forward gently, repeating the motion again, then again, his fingers tangling in her hair.

"… Not like this," her voice almost held fear and she gripped his shoulders. "Harder."

"Yes, like this," he groaned, kissing down her neck as he moved within her.

Emma's chest hurt. She didn't want him to be gentle. She didn't want him to unknowingly force her to feel as he slowly coaxed her over that tantalizing edge, making her break into a thousand pieces beneath him and cry out his name like he had that night over a month ago. She couldn't bear to face her emotions right now. She could take the physical, but it was the other pain that she simply couldn't any longer.

The most frustrating part about this was that regardless of what she wanted to feel, it was happening. With every stroke, with every brush of his lips on her quivering skin she was losing. When she was angry she had had control, but as it drained from her body, she felt powerless.

She didn't want to give it up.

Wrapping her legs around his waist unexpectedly, she rolled them over so that she rest on top of him.

"Gods, Emma…" he breathed as she drove down on him, not roughly, but not gently either. His hands drifted to her undulating hips, rocking in rhythm with her, allowing the faster pace now that she was in control.

Upon his weak acceptance, Emma closed her eyes and tried to lose herself in the pleasure. Her lips parted, moans and curses filling the cabin as her speed increased, pushing down on him harder, and fingers clawing at the smatters of his dark chest hair. This she could do. She was comfortable taking control, closing herself off. She'd practiced almost all of her sexual life to enjoy this without feeling or developing an attachment, and as she rose and fell against him, she felt that begin to come back ever so slightly. There were no other feelings now, not even anger, only lust.

She moved against him even harder. "S-slow down, love." His trembling voice was lost on her. "Emma, gods, I can't-"

She slammed her hips down once more, and just as Emma began to feel the imminence of her orgasm, Hook stiffened and groaned sharply. She could feel every muscle of his beneath her tensing. She snapped out of her haze of lust as she realized the reason for his half-hearted protests, strained groans, and the vice grip on her hip that she hadn't paid any attention to as she rode him tirelessly, nails carving shallow scratches in his chest.

His hook flew into the mattress with a soft 'rip' as he let go. "_Godsfuckemma_-" The words came out in an almost indistinguishable stream as he shook beneath her, eyes closed and chest heaving. Moans continuously left his throat in long, lilting 'mmm' sounds as he released into her. His hips lifted and fell in a steady, light rhythm as he bit down hard on his bruised lip.

Desperate, Emma bucked, driving down on him twice more, begging for release, before she began to feel him soften inside of her and her heart dropped.

"I'm sorry…" he said breathily, eyes half-lidded, as he moved his good hand to rest on the small of her back, caressing her there.

His apology only succeeded in bringing her frustration back, not even being allowed to bask in the post-sex afterglow of a release and was instead hit by a rush of feelings that she had been trying to avoid. Again, she felt vulnerable and open to him just being there, and she hadn't even come undone around him this time. She tried to slide off of him wordlessly, but once he felt her slip off, he pulled her close, holding her firmly in place on his chest.

"Let me go." Her eyes were lowered, staring at the small tattered spot in the blankets where his hook had torn a hole - anything to avoid his piercing stare.

"Emma," Hook rolled them so they were on their sides, facing each other, her head resting against his bicep. "Look at me, love." His finger lifted her chin tenderly, cringing when she moved away from his touch. Instead, he nuzzled her neck and gently let his hand drift between their bodies, seeking out that spot where she still needed him.

"Don't."

He pulled away as if he'd been bitten at the sharpness in her tone.

"Just forget it," she sighed, untangling herself from his body. She winced at the ache in her lower half as she swung her legs over the bed and stood, knowing that it would only get worse in the morning.

Hook sat up halfway, propping himself up on his elbows and only following her with his eyes. "Emma, eventually we're going to need to talk about this." He sighed out his words, as if admitting a horrible secret.

Emma gathered her clothes in her arms, not bothering to get dressed before she moved towards the doorway, anxious to get out of the room before he noticed the tears in her eyes.

"Emma…"

"Not now, Hook. I just… I can't."

A hot tear slid down her cheek as she left his quarters and she hated herself for being so weak.

She didn't know how much longer she could keep running like this.

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_**A/n: Yep, this one hurt. But I don't see the start of their relationship being all sunshine and roses at all, so let's just call this mentally preparing myself for September. ;) The next chapter will be "Jealousy", which I'm still finishing up a few outline details on before I start it. I hope you all enjoyed this.**_

_**Review? Pretty please? :D**_


	3. Jealousy Part1

_**A/n: THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR THE LOVELY REVIEWS! :D you all rock and inspire me so freaking much for this! Thank you! **_

_**Ok, all that I had planned for this chapter got waaaaay too long, and I was forced to cut this emotion in two. lol I hope that you all don't mind a double dose of jealousy! hehe This one will be from Emma's POV and the next part will be from Hook's. I would have continued it back and forth, but Emma's part just worked much better as happening first. Enjoy!**_

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**Jealousy (Part 1)**

Emma slid her sock over her toes, delighting in the crisp, _almost_-clean feel to them against her feet. They were a bit withered and wrinkled from air drying on her cot, but it was the closest to fresh that she could get. They didn't often have the chance to thoroughly wash their clothing, and when they did, it was with rock-hard bars of what they were told was soap - though Emma had her doubts as to what exactly it was. Nevertheless, her one set of modern clothing felt worlds better than when she wore the old, leftover rags that his crew had lived in over the years. At first, she had nearly shuddered whenever the thought of what exactly had happened in them over the course of 300 years crossed her mind, but now that they had been there just over three months, the thoughts had been long ago pushed aside. 100 days in Neverland would do that to you.

Besides, there were far more important things to think about than clothing.

Like _food_.

Emma's stomach gurgled loudly as she pulled her jacket over her shoulders, reminding herself that she had barely eaten in the last two days. Aside from a few edible roots that tasted like she was chewing on raw potatoes and some small exotic fruits that tasted better, but did little to truly satisfy her hunger, she hadn't had much of anything. A powerful storm had hit that had kept them Jolly Roger-bound for the past few days, leaving them with no way to go ashore to collect food and no way to search for Henry. Tensions had been high in the last 48 hours to say the least. It didn't help that the week before this, they had run out of the barrels of boring, dried, salted meats that had seemed endless until they were empty. She didn't know how many times in the past months she had wished she didn't have to eat another bite of the beef-jerky-wannabe sort of substance, but as her belly let out another loud complaint, she wished they had just a _bite _of it back.

What she wouldn't give for a nice, juicy steak right now. And mashed potatoes. And at least two bottles of wine and a box of chocolate.

Emma tried to push the thoughts of a hot, homecooked meal out of her head and enjoy the nicer ones of being able to leave the ship after being cooped up for so long. To everyone's relief, the angry waves had finally calmed and the sun had peeked out at them behind the dark, grey clouds a couple of hours before. As soon as she had heard Hook mention that it would be prudent to anchor and gather food, she had been below deck and getting changed for their nightly 'food run'.

Shortly after their arrival to the land, they had somehow gotten into the habit of going nightly, for an hour or so at a time, specifically to gather fallen fruit to stock up their storage room. Hook had warned them against gathering during the daytime when they often went on treks for miles upon miles. They didn't need the added weight of extra food slowing them down. So instead, she and Hook would go in the evenings when the air was cooling and the sun was just beginning to set, but before it got dark or dangerous for them to be out alone.

They had all more or less fallen into an unspoken schedule as the days dragged on. From the start, she had offered to go out with him every time that he had asked for volunteers, determined to spend as much time out as possible, aching for even a glimpse of Henry, a mere hint of his presence. The first few times, Charming had seemed uncomfortable with the idea of them going off alone when it was near nightfall, and had accompanied them, but eventually, he had given up his apprehension and stayed back with Snow. From then on, it was as if it had become_ their_ job. Hook would lay anchor somewhere and they would take a few empty sacks and paddle out to shore so that they could gather food and any natural supplies that they could find. Meanwhile, Mr. Gold would go back to the quarters and stare at the globe, silently studying and planning for the following day. Regina would often join him, speaking with him in hushed, tired tones from the long day of searching. Mary Margaret would occupy herself with tidying the quarters around them or preparing whatever food they had left, and David rarely left her side.

Emma had grown to truly enjoy this time of the day, finding these little hikes to be remarkably peaceful. There was just _something_ about being alone on a dimming, beautiful island, no longer suffering from the heat of the sunlight that calmed her. It was very nearly therapeutic, especially since Hook seemed to feel the same way, only rarely feeling the need to fill the silence with warnings or the occasional joking innuendo.

Unfortunately, the silence had become more awkward than friendly of late, and their walks had been more exhausting than relaxing. Emma had had a sneaking suspicion that Hook had been purposely avoiding looking her in the eye after their first night together, but now that it had happened a second time - eliciting an entirely new array of emotions within them - she was positive that he was. The same as after their first time, she would often catch him looking her way, a vaguely mournful expression flickering in his stormy blue eyes, before he would quickly shift his gaze, pretending as if he had been looking at something else behind her all along. It was charming, unnerving, and slightly infuriating all at the same time – but she'd be a liar if she said that she didn't look at him the same way. Since that night, everything from the first had been intensified and muddled with confusion. What was she supposed to think about it? First they had shared desperate, longing, gentle sex; something that some might even label as lovemaking - _minus the love_ - and then it was followed by an act that could only be described as rough and punishing and furious. She told herself that they were using each other, something she wasn't at all foreign or adverse to, but as another month of awkward looks and conversation passed, the ache both acts had created deep within her grew.

It was an ache that had been caused by something she was ashamed to have and afraid to admit to herself – feelings. _Fucking feelings._ She had avoided them well enough because of her determined focus on finding Henry and the small hope that had awakened in her upon seeing him alive and well – feisty even. Every trip it seemed like they were getting closer, staying out in the jungle for days at a time, only for his dot to move from one spot on the globe to miles away in mere minutes, only for him to slip out of their grasp again and again. She pushed her body to new extremes daily. She felt herself becoming stronger, harder, and her resolve more desperate as they continued their quest, but those evenings alone with him… when the day faded into night and the globe was aboard the ship with Gold, things were different. With Hook's sure steps tromping beside her echoing loudly in the quiet, him giving her the occasional comforting smile when he saw her emotions written all over her smudged face - that was when she felt weak all over again.

Emma glanced up quickly, nearly running into another body as she opened the door to the upper deck. "Hey, whoa… are you ready to go?" _How the hell did he always manage to sneak up on her like that? And why the fuck was it always when she was thinking about him?_

"Aye," Hook answered hesitantly, looking first at her, then behind him. Emma followed his stare to see Regina standing behind him, empty cloth sack in hand. "I've asked the Queen to come along tonight."

"Oh." Emma placed a hand on her hip subconsciously as her brow furrowed with confusion. The look turned into mild offense when she realized his full implications. "Wait… _with _me, or_ instead_ of me?"

Hook sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze drifting away from hers. "Don't take it personally, Swan. As long as the sea stays fair, you'll be off the ship by dawn with everyone else."

Emma opened her mouth to speak, but quickly closed it when no words came out. _She hated how he had that effect on her. _She was all too aware that the indignation was quite clear on her face, and she cringed inwardly at letting herself wear her emotions on her sleeve as she watched Regina's expression transform from irritation and confusion to amusement.

"Is that a problem?" Hook prompted, eyebrow quirked and head cocked to the side, not with his usual playfulness, but instead with a look akin to boredom and annoyance.

"No," she shrugged nonchalantly. "It's fine. I'm exhausted anyway. I'll see you later."

He nodded gruffly and moved past them, disappearing into his quarters.

"Trouble in paradise?" Regina asked with a raised eyebrow of her own as she slowly followed his path down the stairs.

Emma rolled her eyes and let out a sarcastic huff. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course you don't, dear," she replied sweetly with a smug smirk. After a few paces, she peered over her shoulder, pausing to gather her thoughts. "Try not to be so transparent. If you'd prefer me not to spend time alone with the captain, all you have to do is say so…" she let the words hang in the air, her body stilling as she waited for a response.

Emma glowered, a fist curling at her side, not only because she knew that she _was_ being incredibly transparent, but because Regina had no qualm about acknowledging it.

Despite their prior _differences_, her relationship with Regina had been surprisingly peaceful since they had embarked on their journey. They were united by a common goal, a common love for Henry and Emma had actually grown to feel a bit sorry for the other woman who was undoubtedly experiencing the same pain that she was – but Regina was still Regina and she also didn't let moments like these slip past her without taking the opportunity to toy with her. Emma supposed it was how she stayed sane on the ship, just like Hook with his innuendo, Gold's (and Charming's for that matter) snide, masked threats towards the captain, and Mary Margaret's incessant cleaning – but she still hated her a little bit every time that she did it, if only for being able to see through her like a thin piece of glass.

"I don't care what you do with him," she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. "I just don't like being the last one to know when plans change."

Regina made a soft 'hmm' sound in her throat as her lips curved into a smile that made her look like a cat who had just caught a mouse, turning away and walking into the crew's quarters.

For the following hour, Emma avoided Hook and Regina, busying herself with a menial task above deck until she saw the smaller boat being lowered over the edge and the two paddling the short distance to shore. Even then, she grumbled to herself about _'stupid pirates'_ and went back to sweeping a small section of the deck, insisting to herself that her irritation lay in the fact that he had replaced her and not because he was spending 'time alone' with Regina, as the queen had so sweetly put it.

"Are you ok?"

Emma jumped, almost dropping her broom. She had been so absorbed in her own thoughts that she hadn't noticed Mary Margaret's soft footsteps behind her. "I'm fine. Why?"

She cast her a knowing look that said _"I may not have known you long, but I know when something is wrong"_. "Don't _you _usually go out for food with Hook?"

It wasn't a serious question and for a moment, Emma wished that the other woman would stop beating around the bush and say what was on her mind. There were only so many motherly looks that she could handle over the course of a month before she was going to scream _"yes! We had sex, ok?"_ and that little display was_ not_ on the top of her list of ways that she wanted to entertain the crew.

Emma shrugged her shoulders. "She probably couldn't wait to get off of the ship or something. You know how seasick she was during the storm."

"Emma…"

"Stop giving me that look!"

"What look?"

"That look like you know what's going on in my head. There's nothing going on, I promise."

Undeterred by her daughter's annoyance, Mary Margaret paused and studied her carefully before continuing. "Emma, about that day, when you saw Henry… after we all came back-"

"Don't," Emma held up a halting palm. "Just don't talk about that day, ok? It was nothing."

"Emma, it wasn't nothing. You were covered in bruises and-and marks! Your face was scratched."

"Seriously, Mary Margaret, I was fine. I _am_ fine. And we really need to work out a knock-first rule, if we have to share a cabin, cuz I am way too old for my mom to walk in on me getting dressed."

Mary Margaret shook her head at her daughter's feeble attempt to joke, pressing her lips together as if she wanted to say something more, but was holding back.

"You know what we saw that day… what happened…" Emma began again quietly, closing her eyes as painful images of Henry popped into her head, just as they always did at just the wrong moment.

"Those weren't from Hook tackling you into some bushes... we both know what they were from, Emma, and I just don't want you to-"

"It's fine. It was just sex. It happened that day and it hasn't happened since, nor do I want it to." _Finally._ It felt good to speak the words, as uncomfortable as it was that it was with her mother. She felt like a small weight had been lifted off of her chest, and then simultaneously replaced by another one, suspecting that admitting that they had been intimate would soon lead to questions about the feelings behind said intimacy.

"That wasn't _just sex_, Emma," Mary Margaret mumbled, her eyes widening slightly at the memories of the marks that had littered her daughter's fragile frame. Numerous fingertip sized bruises and nail marks had been scattered about her hips and thighs, a purple bite-mark adorned her chest, light red scratches on her cheek and down her lower back – it certainly hadn't been a comforting sight for a mother to see, especially not combined with the later confession that they had seen Henry that day.

"It doesn't really matter what it was. It's not happening again," she muttered, propping up the broom and folding her arms over the smooth wood of the Jolly Roger's railing, staring out into the gently rippling waves.

"Is that what you told yourself the first time it happened?" Mary Margaret prodded gently, taking a place next to her daughter. Emma jerked her head to the side, giving her a sharp look and Snow held up a hand to indicate surrender. "It was just a feeling… I guess I was wrong," she continued with a small shrug, her eyes saying that she knew that she wasn't. "You can talk to me anytime, Emma. I know you're an adult and you feel like there are more important things to worry about... but I worry about _you_."

"You don't have to worry about me, Mary Margaret," she replied, forcing a tight-lipped smile. "I'll be fine. I've always been fine."

"I know," she replied with a warm smile, covering her hand with her own and squeezing. "You're strong. But no one is invincible, Emma. Everybody needs someone to carry their burdens for them sometimes, even if it's only for a little while."

Her words rang in Emma's head as her mother casually picked up the broom that she had been using and walked away to do some more cleaning of her own, leaving her to her thoughts.

_Everybody needs someone to carry their burdens for them sometimes._

Emma had the sneaking suspicion that she hadn't been talking about her or David, but about her perceived relationship with Hook. _How could that woman be so damned perceptive about her when she hadn't even known her until the year before?_

**~ASMG~**

The next day, Emma woke up to gray skies and whistling winds. Neverland dawns were typically quite bright and obvious, and she thought that she must have woken up far earlier than usual until she saw that Hook, David, Regina, and Gold were all above deck as well, fully dressed.

"There's another storm coming," she heard Hook say solemnly as she approached them, his eyes moving to her briefly before flitting back to the rest of the group. "It doesn't feel nearly as rough as the one preceding it, but we'll lose a few hours of daylight. For now, we'll remain anchored, but if the winds pick up anymore, we'll be forced to ride out the storm."

"What about Henry?" Regina's voice cut through the wind and Emma felt an uncomfortable prickle down her spine at how close she moved to Hook when she spoke. "According to the globe, he's even closer to us than he was yesterday. Do you really expect us to just sit here and watch them take him away from us again, _captain_?"

Emma bristled at the pleased smirk he gave her when she called him by his title._ Stop being such an idiot, Emma. She's no closer to him than anyone else. Besides, of course he likes being called 'captain'. He's probably one of those guys that would get off on being called it in bed because it made him feel powerfu- Stop! Stop thinking about the fucking Evil Queen and Hook and think about your damned son! _She snapped silently, rebuking herself in her own thoughts.

"And then he'll disappear again just as quickly," Hook answered, unaware of Emma's shameful thoughts. "Whoever has him and whatever dark magic is involved in this, they're playing games with us. It's best that we keep ourselves well-rested and well-fed and ride out whatever Neverland decides to throw at us."

"So in other words, you're saying that you don't have a plan?" Charming interrupted.

"_I'm saying_, Prince, that there is no point in planning when we don't know where the storm will lead us and it's unsafe to try to permanently dock anywhere when we don't know how the weather will fare."

"I'm afraid that I must agree with the captain," Gold offered, looking reluctant to voice his compliance with anything that Hook had to say.

Hook himself seemed irked that Rumpelstiltskin was offering up any opinion at all, but wisely kept his mouth shut, giving him only a stiff nod and scanning the crowd, his eyes once again falling on Emma, who had remained silent throughout the whole discussion. "Does anyone else have any other complaints or are we in agreement?"

He seemed dumbfounded when she didn't speak up, and a faint hint of annoyance crossed his expression, almost as if he wanted her to start an argument with him.

"Alright then. Rest up, mates!"

**~ASMG~**

Emma lazily rose up from her cot, tired of being in the stuffy room full of her dozing 'shipmates'. The weather hadn't gotten terribly worse, but it was enough to keep them from docking, and the fact that as Hook had predicted, Henry's location seemed to move further and further away from them didn't help with her restlessness. As she made her way above deck, she felt her stomach lurch at the sight before her.

Hook was at the helm as expected, a steady hand on the wheel, despite them remaining anchored, but Regina's hand was on it as well - too close for Emma's liking - her back was pressed against it so she could look the captain in the eye. They seemed deep in serious conversation, and there was nothing suspicious about their body language or behavior, but combined with what had happened the night before, it lit a small spark of anger inside of Emma.

Hook's eyes drifted over to hers momentarily. As soon as he saw her, his demeanor changed from tense to relaxed, his lips moving into a small smirk. He quickly moved his eyes back to Regina, answering a question that she hadn't been able to hear spoken. Emma casually allowed herself to walk closer, telling herself that it could be about Henry, leaning against the side of the ship and watching the smallish waves slap against the side of the Jolly Roger.

"Well, if you don't like how I captain, love, then I suggest you mutiny." Her ears pricked at the sound of his teasing voice. She suspected that they were still talking about his decision to wait through the storm.

"Maybe I will. I'm sure The Dark One and his magic alone can handle a humble pirate," she laughed coldly.

"Ah, but _can you_ handle me, is the question, Highness?"

"I don't think I'd have a problem."

"You see, I've been told I'm quite the handful, but perhaps you'd prefer to see for yourself?"

Regina smirked, chuckling quietly to herself as she lifted her eyebrows. "Are we still talking about a mutiny, Captain?"

Emma looked back just in time to see Regina push her hips forward slightly as she stood up from her leaning position against the helm and Hook instinctively swayed his own hips a bit closer, his hard gaze at her never wavering, his fingers brushing against hers as he readjusted his grip on the wheel when her movement caused it to shift ever so slightly.

Thoroughly annoyed by his obvious show for her, and how naturally Regina was playing right back, Emma didn't wait to hear the rest of the conversation and went back below deck, plopping herself down on a chair a few feet from the doorway. She grabbed a leftover piece of fruit from the night before and munched on it absentmindedly, trying to calm herself from what she had just witnessed.

_They weren't flirting. Well, they were flirting, but they despise each other. And why do you even care? Maybe he screwed her against a tree last night, why should it even matter to you? You're the one who said it shouldn't happen again._

Tossing the core to the ground, thinking something about picking it up later, she stood up, preparing to go back to her bunk and sleep off her crazy mood swings when Regina walked through the door.

"My, doesn't _someone_ look stormier than the clouds out there," she commented coolly, smirking a bit as she turned the corner.

Emma rolled her eyes, another spark of jealousy rushing through her and suddenly she felt sick at the thought of going back to their beds.

Moments later, Hook appeared through the door as well, making his way down the steps and towards his quarters. Without thinking, Emma grabbed onto the collar of his coat and yanked him into his cabin, kicking the door shut behind them.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're-"

His words dissolved into an 'umph' noise as her lips crushed his mouth in a bruising kiss, pushing him into the wall just like he had done to her during their last encounter. She could feel his breath leave his chest from the force of it, his face full of disbelief and arousal. She couldn't help but enjoy the idea that she had caught the haughty captain off guard after he had been so intent on getting a rise out of her. She continued to kiss him hard, her hands quickly unbuttoning his coat and throwing it open. He struggled against her lightly, attempting to turn them around so that he could take control, but Emma shoved him back, one hand snaking behind his neck and the other delving deeply into his pants. His body immediately went partially limp in response, relaxing into her touch as their kiss slowed a hair, her hand drawing up and down him in the tight constraints of his leather trousers.

Hook moaned into her mouth quietly, his good hand slipping underneath her shirt and drifting up and down her back, in time with her strokes.

Emma released him only for the few seconds that it took to finish unlacing him, then drew him out, smiling at the soft sigh of relief that he let out once he had been freed. She stroked him a few more times, watching his eyelids droop and flutter, before dropping to her knees and taking him into her mouth in a fluid motion.

Hook hissed, growling out a loud curse after it, and Emma experimentally drew back, flicking her tongue out to lick a long trail down the entirety of his length. His hook flew into the wooden wall behind him, and she heard him mumble something broken about her being the ruin of his beautiful ship. She easily halted his complaints, taking him deeper into her mouth, swirling her tongue around him quickly with every bob of her head, taking him fast and hard. She gradually moved along him, going as deeply as her mouth would allow, sucking and tonguing him as she did, and - far too quickly for his liking, she was sure - she felt his body begin to go rigid, his muscles tensing, his grunts and groans turning into strangled moans and whispers of her name, as the point of his hook dug a shallow, curved line into the wall.

"Gods, Emma, if you have any notion of me taking you… stop… _now_," he managed to choke out between heavy breaths and gritted teeth.

Emma was beginning to learn his body, the pattern of his moans, what he felt and sounded like when he got close and he was exhibiting all the signs of a man on the edge. _Damn, it was empowering._ She pulled him closer by his hips, letting her mouth slide tantalizingly slowly up and down him once more, keeping her mouth tight around him, letting her tongue twirl around his tip. His hips jerked hard, and she could tell from the sharpness of the movement and the guttural groan that he let out that the action had been entirely accidental. Sufficiently pleased with his reactions, she removed herself from him, licking her lips sensually and using his hips as leverage as she stood up.

Taking this as a sign that she wanted to finish with him, Hook immediately wrapped his arms around her, trying to pull her close and kiss her again, when she put a hand on his chest, pushing him back firmly.

"Emma?" His breathing was still strained, his chest heaving and his cheeks pink from her ministrations. His arms dropped to his sides and his eyes looked bewildered as he watched her turn away from him and take a couple of steps towards the door. "You can't-what? You're not just going to leave me like this?"

She looked over her shoulder at him, struggling not to smile at the ridiculous and oddly arousing sight of him, pressed against the wall, knees half buckled. "You still have one good hand, don't you?"

"But-but that's not-"

"Ask Regina," she shrugged with utter indifference, smirking sarcastically before she turned away from him again and twisted the doorknob, leaving him alone. She felt a strange sense of satisfaction as she left the cabin and returned above deck, the sky still grey, but the winds and waves had calmed enough that she knew they would still be out searching later that day. Everyone else still appeared to be safely below deck, most likely having gone back to sleep, taking all that they could get on the stormy day.

Emma enjoyed the feeling of the cool air hitting her flushed cheeks, succeeding in both cooling her body and the temptation to go back in there and finish what she had started. That is, until she remembered the teasing smirks on Regina's face and the way that Hook had instinctively moved his hips towards her, his fingers ghosting over hers at the helm and that nagging burning sensation in her chest came back full force. _He deserved it._ For what, she wasn't quite sure. For doing what he had always appeared to have done and encouraged and even instigated any advances he could get from the opposite sex? For having sex with her and then openly flirting with Regina? Or was it because he dared to look at her like he cared, stirring up infinite feelings of confusion within her? _Ugh. Definitely that one. _

A minute or so later, much sooner than she had expected, Emma heard the familiar stomp of his boots on the deck and felt hot breath on her neck as he drew his body close to hers. "Just where did you think that you were going, darling?"

His voice was low and thickened with lust, and it sent a chill down her spine, the seriousness making her wonder if he had the mind to spin her around and take her right there if she would allow it. _Don't be stupid, Emma. You made your point, now tell him to run along._ But what _was_ her point exactly? She still couldn't quite figure it out, except for knowing that she hated imagining him with someone else after having him for herself.

"Getting some fresh air. What are you doing out here? Didn't you have, uh, something to take care of back there?" She taunted, shrugging him off of her while glancing back at him.

He pressed his hips into her backside for a moment, letting her feel that he still remained unsated. "Do you know how bloody painful this is right now?" he growled, eyes glancing around to make sure that they remained alone, but everyone else was still in their quarters. He lowered his hand from her waist slowly down to her hip. "_Gods_, come back with me, love," he breathed coaxingly, drawing her closer with the blunt curve of his hook that was pressed against her stomach. "Please, Emma…"

Emma was startled by the gentle turn his tone took, a pleasant mixture of desperation and affection. "And why would I do that?"

"I think you know why, love," he chuckled, nuzzling her hair and breathing in her scent.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"What are you playing at, Swan? Or do you just enjoy being cruel with me?" he teased, taking on a hurt tone, letting his lips brush her ear, and Emma felt a small rush of excitement and pleasure course through her body at the idea that he was being so openly needing of her. He wanted her. _Needed_ her. It was this desperate craving for her that lit her senses on fire when he was like this and what made it extremely difficult for her to resist him.

She pulled away from him slowly, and it felt like trying to remove one piece of sticky candy from another. "You've barely even looked at me in the last month, Hook. Don't try to act all sweet now. We both know what this is."

"And what is it then? Because it certainly wasn't_ that_ little display of dominance back there. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that you were jealous, love. If what was between us was _just sex_, wouldn't we have been having it by now?" The cockiness in his voice had returned full force, and Emma immediately wished that the lustful one would come back.

"Don't flatter yourself, Hook."

"Then what is it you seek from me, Emma?" he groaned and sighed, the feeling of his breath against her neck only weakening her resolve to remain apathetic. "I haven't looked at you because you do this to me, dammit. Do you know how bloody _hard_ it is to control myself around you when I'm supposed to be looking for your son?"

Emma breathed in sharply, surprised by his earnestness. They'd been doing this dance around each other, using the other as a release for their pent up frustrations and feelings for 3 months because of his commitment to finding Henry? After the second time they had slept together, she had accepted the possibility of this continuing, but never that he had wanted more than what she had given him. But if she had been watching as an innocent third party, she would think it made perfect sense. Leaving her on the ship while he left with Regina, refusing to look her in the eyes, holding her at an arm's length whenever they were alone – he wasn't avoiding her because he didn't want her, he was avoiding her because he _did_. Apparently, so much so, that he didn't want to lose sight of what he had set out with them for, so he denied himself what he had wanted so badly, again and again.

"Hook…"

Suddenly she felt his grip loosen around her and his jaw went slack, his stubble scratching against her cheek as he pulled back. "Gods be damned," he cursed under his breath, and at first, Emma thought that he was cursing at her for calling him by his moniker, until she saw what had so easily drawn away his attention from her.

_Sails. _

"Is that…"

"Bloody hell."

* * *

**_A/n: So that's part one of the Jealousy chapter, it was just getting WAY too long to not split up. As you may have guessed, part 2 will involve Hook being the one feeling possessive, and I promise much more will happen to further the plot and their relationship next chapter. ;) _**

**_Review? Pretty please?_**


	4. Jealousy Pt 2

**_A/n: Holy shiznits! I'm sorry that it took so long to get this chapter out, but you guys… this chapter is more than twice as long as the last one. LOL So I think it's cool that I took double the time to get it to you... or maybe I'm just making excuses, but DAMN I apparently had a lot to say. It really needed to be 3 parts. Also, as you can see, I changed my name to "lovingcaptainswan" so that I could match my tumblr name. If I take too long to get the next chapter out to you, PLEASE, I give you permission to flood my askbox (as long as you aren't rude hehe). I need the extra push sometimes, because life gets in the way and I get too lazy or uninspired to write sometimes. 2 chapters left, Passion and Love! I hope you like this one! I wanted to add SO much more detail, but obviously, that wasn't going to work. LOL Enjoy!_**

* * *

Hook sat silently as he listened to the arguments being thrown from person to person across the room. His body language oozed nonchalance, leaned back against the chair, one leg draped over the other, arms crossed, elbows resting lazily against his raised thigh - but his mind was alert, running a mile a minute. As soon as he had seen the ship, his mood had shifted from needy and lustful to anxious and irritated and every little noise in the room seemed to prick at his nerves. Hook was a patient man, but this time, Neverland and her tricks – not to mention a certain blonde - were even beginning to get to him. The picture of the faraway sails that were faded with age to a dull yellowish color flickered in his mind's eye, a small, black flag poised above them, rippling in the wind that told him exactly what the ship was.

Pirate.

Pirates in Neverland. _Bloody fucking hell._ This was just what they needed.

They already had daily run-ins with poisonous plants or dangerous weather over the months that they had voyaged its lands and seas, but while Hook was confident that with their cooperation, he could protect them against the flora and fauna of Neverland, the people – the people were an entirely different story. It was ill-fated enough that they were purposely attempting to track Tamara and Greg, the Lost Ones, and the Shadow itself, a plot that Hook could see no other way in ending than with a likely violent battle - but now there were pirates slowly approaching with every short-lived grace of the wind in their favor. The Jolly Roger, no longer armed and prepared for battle as it had been once upon a time or even under Cora's magical enchantment, was near helpless on her own. It was a marvel that they had noticed them when they had, while the opposing ship was still miles away.

But instead of doing as he had always done and jumped into action, taking on his role as captain and barking out orders in an authoritative tone, he sat in the galley and stewed.

He was angry, inwardly fuming. _When was it going to be enough?_ _When would one bloody thing go right? _A voice inside of his head told him that they had been lucky. Any one of them could have easily fallen prey to the curse of the mermaids, the Lost Ones, a bloody poisonous flower – they _had been_ lucky, but a dark mood had befallen him like a child intent on a tantrum, and so he sat, giving himself a few moments to bask in it before forcing it away, as he did all of the emotions created by this trip.

Shamefully, even to himself, his dark mood was only further intensified by his all too recent state of arousal that had since passed, the ache in his groin and a lingering feeling of dissatisfaction and altogether annoyance only distracting him from his thoughts. He should be developing a plan right now, he should be taking care of his crew. That was his job as captain. _But he couldn't focus_. Not when Emma was arguing along with them all, her cheeks red from shouting and hair still mussed from his fisting into it in a brief instant in his room. She paused for a moment and licked her lips and he couldn't stop the images flooding his mind that came with the flash of pink of her tongue. _He was not only angry, but he needed release_. The thought hit him with a primal force and that pathetic urge only aggravated him further, making him feel more animal than man. He had been in his cabin less than 20 minutes ago with that gorgeous woman who frustrated him in oh so many ways, doing things that no man would be able to think coherently through, and now, his thoughts were just as jumbled as they had been then.

And suddenly his resentment was no longer about Neverland.

He hated that she got under his skin this way, that he_ let_ her get to him like this. He hated wanting her, _needing her_, like he had no other in so long and the guilt that went along with that need, and he hated the emotions that she stirred within him like a pot ready to boil over at any moment.

It had been weeks since their rough, anger-fueled romp in his quarters, and since then, he had done what he thought was the right thing. He had tried to ignore her, he had tried to keep her safe - _from him_ - from what he could do to her. A feat that he only managed by nearly cold avoidance of her presence and the meager comfort of his hand on nights that he could no longer keep her out of his thoughts or dreams. He had already bruised her, hurt her, and to top it off, left her unsatisfied, all in a single tryst. He didn't like to imagine the emotional damage that he could do if given the time.

Everything would be better for her if he stayed away, if he focused on finding Henry, as should have always been his primary focus – but he was learning all too quickly just how weak he was when it came to her.

So he ignored her.

It had gone as well as could have been expected. Things became awkward and tense between them, but not vulnerable, not angry, none of the things that had created the wanton desire for each other in the past. It had gone as well as could have been expected… And then he fucked it up by having the nerve to be bothered when she had begun to ignore him back. He just _had_ to let a few playful words slip out near the queen in a conscious effort to bait her, and just as Emma had always done, she gave as good as she had received. _And hell, could she give_. Now, he had _this mess_ to deal with - all of those feelings that he had been so desperately pushing away now racing back to him.

And still, despite all of these warring passions, he couldn't help the foolish notion that if he could just have her again, _then_ he could stop that need, the burn he had for her to be against his body, bucking into him, crying out his name. He could stop the need to hold her after, tucked into him as if they were still one, rather than watch her flee his bed like it was the site of a murder. _Then _he could go back to focusing on their search for a few more weeks until the itch needed to be scratched again. Because that's what he told himself - that his _fascination_ with the Swan girl was a mere annoyance, that she _didn't_ make him feel like he was being ripped in two whenever they were alone, like Captain Hook was fading away and an adventurous, young captain named Killian Jones was all that remained in his place, like he hadn't wanted to hold her and never let her go that first night.

Like he wasn't _falling for her_ like a stupid schoolboy who thought he knew about life and love long before his time.

When had he become so weak to his own emotions and lust? He had always been intelligent and calculating, using his 'pretty face' as he needed, but now he felt as if he were the victim of such tricks, thoughts of her invading his own at any given moment of the day.

"Hook!" Emma's voice tore him from his deliberations and the tone of her voice implied that she had said his moniker more than once. "You seem pretty calm for what's happening. Friends of yours?"

The scoff in her tone wasn't lost on him, and with that sarcastic quip, it was as if they were Hook and Swan again. A pirate and a princess who bantered incessantly and had absolutely never shared any passionate moments. It was almost a relief. _Almost._

"Just waiting for the noise to die down," he retorted with a tight-lipped, patronizing smile.

"_Pirates? _There are other pirates here and you didn't think to tell us, _Captain_?"

"Shockingly, it wasn't something that I was aware of, _Prince_," he replied dryly, with a roll of his eyes. "Or do you and your daughter expect me to know the whereabouts of every pirate at any given time?"

"So what do you propose that we do?" Gold responded, stopping his pacing to glance at the pirate.

"The Dark One is asking my advice now?" Hook countered a bit too sharply, watching the older man's eyes narrow. "…It all depends on their intentions towards us," he stated grimly, regaining his composure, relieved as he felt the irritation slip away and the captain begin to creep back in.

"What about just… sailing away? The Jolly Roger is supposed to be fast, right?" And through the slowly dimming irritation, the unmistakably stubborn and unrattled pitch of Emma's voice still managed to charm him. It was amazing how so very little truly got to her.

"The Jolly Roger is _more than_ fast, love. But unfortunately, Neverland is another realm altogether from the Enchanted Forest. Time, speed, magic… they all have a distinct flow of their own here. What might have worked in the world where she was made, may not work quite the same way here. Besides, the winds favor that we move towards them, not away."

"Well, doesn't that mean that the winds are against _them_ too?" Regina asked with a short huff of annoyance, hands firmly placed on her slender hips. Her earlier frustration with not having searched for Henry for nearly 3 days now was beginning to seep through her normally calm, cool exterior. "So what's the problem?"

"Aye, the winds are against them," Hook agreed, glancing her up and down with amusement. The question had been innocent, a mistake that Emma had made as well, but he couldn't help but smirk.

Regina may have been an intelligent, beautiful woman of massive power, but it hadn't gone unnoticed by the captain that she lacked in a certain area that he found particularly alluring. She had never had the knack for seafaring life the way that Emma had - whether he could get that stubborn Swan to admit it or not. While Regina had been plagued the first few weeks with horrible seasickness – and it _was _horrible, the bouts had nearly kept her on the ship the entirety of the first couple of days, along with another member of the crew whose name began with a 'D' - but Emma had only seemed to suffer mildly and even developed her sea-legs rather quickly, as if sailing were in her blood. His lips quirked up at the memory, '_hell of a pirate_'.

"-unfortunately, that brings us to a stalemate, as the only direction that we can go swiftly would be straight towards them. And it won't be long before the weather changes her mind once again."

"Wait a second," David interrupted, holding up a halting palm, his brows furrowed in confusion. "How did they even get here?"

"There are many ways to travel realms if you search hard enough."

"This is quite true," Gold commented, making it clear that this would be the beginning of a personal story.

With the questions directed away from himself, and not particularly fond of the idea of listening to one of the Crocodile's tales, Hook went back to staring at the wooden planked floor before him, studying each line and groove. The wheels were beginning to turn again slowly as he tried to drown out the continued conversation until his name came up again.

_Pirates. _

_What were other pirates doing in Neverland?_

When he had left Neverland himself, he had dropped his crew at a busy port for 'sailors' of their degree, a place that they would be sure to find work. He hadn't been surprised that some of them were already speaking of finding a way back one day and bringing others with them, but his work with the place had been done, and as loyal as they had been, it was no longer any concern of his where they went.

If the ship and its crew was indeed composed primarily of his old mates, it shouldn't take too much convincing to avoid an unwanted fight, if that was the true motive behind their steady approach to the Jolly Roger. His crew had respected him highly, minus a few troublemakers that he had to occasionally put in line. They might even be able to provide some valuable information about Henry to them. _But if they weren't_… now that would take careful tact and negotiations of an entirely different sort. Though Regina and The Dark One's magic could prove helpful and even necessary, he didn't mean to drain them or create any enemies while they were on a journey that's length was indefinite, not when he didn't know if there were more of them out there, and he certainly didn't expect for them to kill an entire ship's crew.

"What about a spell? Like you cast over the town? Couldn't that do something?" Snow offered hopefully, looking in Gold's direction.

"We've already experimented with a much smaller form of the protection spell, but unfortunately, the captain is right," he admitted begrudgingly. "Ever since we've arrived on this side of the island, our flow of magic has been weak," he replied with a grim look, clutching at his cane as he paced the room through his limp. "Even if it weren't, such a spell as that is complicated, dearie."

"So what does that mean for us?" Emma questioned, leaning forward, palms flat against the table with a look of determination on her face that said she wasn't going to let this stand in the way of anything.

"It means, Ms. Swan, that we'll be able to protect ourselves enough, should it become necessary, but for anything on a large scale…"

"We're out of luck," David completed the sentence with a dejected sigh, sensing the other man's meaning as his words trailed off.

Once again, Snow attempted to brighten the mood, though her own face was drawn into a frown of concentration. "What are the chances that they actually want to hurt us? Maybe if we negotiate with them-"

"They're pirates," Emma reminded her mother firmly. "If we let them too close, they'll just use us and then move onto the next sorry son of a bitch," she said, shooting a humorless smile in a certain pirate's direction, but at the same time, there was a certain softness in her expression, as if she were asking him if that were the case and not telling him. Hook could almost see their earlier conversation about 'what they were' flitting through her head.

"Don't be coy, Lass, say what you really feel," he replied with a snide smirk, but the look she had given him had shaken him, and he wondered briefly if they would _ever_ give up the charade, and if she would ever just say what she meant like that first night in his cabin.

It was a thought he quickly extinguished like a flickering flame, as soon as he had realized he had been thinking it.

Emma rolled her eyes and ignored the comment, and his triumph at blocking thoughts of her from his mind was only short-lived. "If they get access to the ship, it's over. It'll become a fight, and if there are more of them than us, they'll find what little supplies we have and suck us dry. Am I right?"

Amazingly vivid memory flashes disturbed his well-meaning thoughts of tactics and diplomacies that he _had_ been concentrating on before his thoughts had been interrupted. _Emma on her knees. Her golden blonde head moving over his painfully erect member. The way she had taken him as deeply as possible into her mouth and gods, she was amazing at it, then glanced up to meet his eyes for a split second just as he hit the back of her throat, mischief and lust in her eyes as she slowly pulled back, making his knees buckle from what she was doing with her ton- _

No! This wasn't the time. He hated how his body betrayed him, mere seconds of unwanted thoughts able to make him twitch to life, even only slightly.

_'Suck us dry'. _Why in the hell did she have to use that particular phrase around him right now? He would have bet a pocket of gold coins that she had done it on purpose to shut him up.

_"Get a hold of yourself, Hook. You're the fucking captain of the Jolly Roger and you will __**not**__ be bested by a woman on her knees. Not this woman. Not again."_ He commanded himself harshly, but he knew that this wasn't just any woman. She'd always best him, and most of the time, he couldn't give a damn. He was even impressed by it.

"Hook?"

"You are correct, love," he replied smoothly, as if he hadn't just been staring off into space for an embarrassingly long moment.

"I don't understand how we could have been here for three months without running into anyone but the Picaninny and the Lost Ones if other people are living here," Mary Margaret contemplated, almost to herself, pursing her lips gently.

"We haven't explored all that Neverland has to offer in a mere three months, Highness. I have reason to believe that at least some of them may have been a part of my old crew."

"Your crew…" David started slowly.

"Yes, my crew. A few of them expressed interest in returning to Neverland, but as the Jolly Roger was my ship and I had other business to attend to, our time here eventually came to a close. Even if I am correct, a majority of them likely won't be. And neither of these options guarantee that they will appreciate our presence."

Regina shook her head, scratching at an insect bite on her bare arm, looking at the bump with disgust. "And why exactly would anyone _want_ to be here?"

"Pirates and their treasure," Gold muttered cryptically, shaking his head and rolling his eyes pointedly with a sharp glance in Hook's direction. "Always taking what doesn't belong to them and then going back for more…"

Hook bristled at the below-the-belt comment, but settled for simply balling his fist into a tight coil, out of sight of the other man. Instead, he set his jaw in a hard line and turned to address the question. "Neverland may not have your typical towns and taverns to plunder and lay for the night, but it holds many a secret, even the most average ones would make a man the richest in whatever land he may have come from. But she is also quite treacherous and doesn't give up her treasures so easily. You could sail years here without finding a single one."

"I'm failing to see how any of this involves us figuring out what to do about this," Emma interjected impatiently, an absent-minded hand landing on her hip.

"I'm failing to see you pose solutions," he snapped back.

"Well, you're the pirate, tell us what we're supposed to do."

He waited a long moment before replying. "We'll negotiate with them." He glanced around the room, waiting for arguments, waiting for a reaction, but when none came, he continued. "From the look of their approach, they are coming for us, but we aren't some merchant ship to be plundered and this isn't your average world. They are either looking for help, or looking to… _'suck us dry'_, as Emma so eloquently put it," he paused, meeting her eyes for a short moment with a twinkle of mischief in his own, before moving them across the table. "David…" Charming flinched and met the pirate's gaze, surprised that Hook had used his name and not some mocking nickname instead. "When they approach with means to board, I will indicate our willingness to negotiate. If the captain is a decent man with a decent cause, he will invite us aboard. Can I count on you and your sword to go with me?"

"Me?" His look of shock was only there for a second, before he nodded firmly. "Of course."

"As much as I loathe the idea of being your partner, wouldn't you think it wiser to choose a more… secure option?" Gold began slowly, choosing his words wisely.

"Yes, Captain. Shouldn't you take at least one member of the crew who can actually protect you and your ship?" Regina concurred, slightly offended.

"It may be," he replied in an even tone. "But it's far too likely that The Evil Queen and The Dark One would be recognized amongst people that are no strangers to The Enchanted Forest or the more sordid ways of life," he added pointedly. "I'd rather a peaceful truce based on mutual, begrudging respect than who has the bigger sword... Which, by the way, now and has always been me," he smirked at them and Emma rolled her eyes again at the extremely thinly veiled innuendo.

"We're the bigger swords?" Regina caught on, her expression now interested.

"Precisely."

"Isn't that a little dangerous? Going onto a pirate ship with only the two of you?" Mary Margaret asked worriedly. "There has to be another way…"

"Pirates are perceived as brutish and crude, but we do live by a certain code. Pleasantries, false as they may be, will be followed until there's a reason for them not to be."

"So until one of you decides to stop the bullshit and skewer the other one?" Emma asked, raising her eyebrow skeptically.

He grinned. "For lack of more accurate wording, yes."

She crossed her arms over her chest and a defiant look invaded her expression making Hook's heart drop for a moment.

"In that case, I want to go."

"No."

"You're telling me that two big guys with a hook and swords boarding their ship will keep all that from happening longer than you and a woman?"

"I won't put you in that danger. Besides, the captain would think me weak."

"And his guard will be down." Emma fired back at him with passion, straightening her shoulders and never once dropping his stare.

"Women are thought to be bad luck on pirate ships, love."

"Then he'll want our negotiations over and us safely back as soon as possible," she argued without missing a beat.

Hook sighed, dropping her gaze first and letting it bore into the table instead as he allowed himself to mull the idea over in his head. She was right. This could give them an advantage they might need, that or it could put them in terrible danger._ Why the hell was she always right_? Finally, he looked back up, and something in his expression must have changed noticeably, because it was only a second or two before Charming glanced from Hook to his daughter, then back to Hook.

"Oh _hell no_. You can't be considering this…"

"Funny," he replied dryly, already regretting the decision forming in his head, "I was just thinking the same thing."

**~ASMG~**

He just couldn't say no to her.

It would be his undoing one day. She would be his undoing – but he had already begun to sense that long ago.

Hook listened to the lighter footfalls behind him that matched the beat of his as they moved towards his cabin. He glanced back and nearly smiled at the sight of her, shoulders squared and walking as tall as she could, as if mentally preparing herself for battle.

"So what's the plan?" she asked, when she caught him looking back.

"We'll negotiate with them." Hook stepped aside, holding the door open for her as she stepped inside the small room.

"Yeah, I got that part," she nodded, chewing on the inside of her lip in contemplation as the door closed behind them. "What exactly do we have to negotiate with? Some dried up fruit?"

"Do you really think I've shown you everything I have to offer, Swan?"

"You've shown me an awful lot," she replied, throwing the double entendre back at him.

"Rest assured, love, the Jolly Roger has many a treasure that you have yet to see," he said with a smug smile as he leaned back against the door, not failing to notice her body language telling him that he'd better stop the bullshit _now_. "But we're not so much bartering as… making a truce."

"And what makes you so sure that they'll even want to do that?"

"I'm not," he said seriously, "but we have no other choice. The Jolly Roger has no weaponry."

"What? What kind of pirate ship doesn't have weapons? I thought they all came with canons or something?"

"I spent three centuries in Neverland, Emma, and beyond that, she was enchanted by Cora's magic. Any weapons that she may have had in earlier years, had long ago become unnecessary…until now that is," he added ironically, cursing himself for not thinking this through ahead of time.

Emma shook her head and her lips curved into a self-amused the smile. "The movies sure got you wrong. A pirate ship with no canons and a pirate that looks like-"

"Looks like what?" He took a step closer, a devilish glint in his eyes as he momentarily forgot his worries.

"Nevermind." She shook her head again, cutting off her own thought with a sigh. "So…the plan. We're going on a ship to talk with pirates with nothing but your charm and my, what? _Feminine wiles_?"

Hook immediately dropped his playful expression, remembering the gravity of their job at hand. "Emma, when we board, I want you to stick close with me."

He thought of all the horrors he had seen in his years as a pirate, all the horrors that he himself had committed, and he and his crew hadn't stooped to the ravaging of women or slave trade that many pirates saw as commonplace. He pictured all the terrors that they could be subjected to if this went wrong and he hated himself for letting her talk him into it. But she was like a siren who drew him to her with every word, with every look, pulling him under into the depths. He could feel the proverbial water filling his lungs with every argument she sent his way, every logical thought of hers amidst the chaos making his vision swirl and fade.

This would all be so much easier to face if she hadn't been right. If he could tell her that they had made a mistake, and that she should stay back on the Jolly – not that he thought that she would agree to that for a second. Right now, careful tact and appearing as little of a threat for as long as possible was going to be their best bet, but it didn't make putting her in even further risk than usual any easier.

She deadpanned. "No, I was thinking I was gonna go explore the ship with the crew. Maybe have a few drinks…"

"Emma, I'm serious. Women on pirate ships aren't often thought highly of_… nor are the men who allow them_ – not until a reputation is built," he spoke slowly, not quite meeting her gaze, his own faraway as if he wasn't referring to her at all.

"Not ones for feminism, huh? Big surprise there."

"You'll be with me, and you may not be seen as a threat, but to them, at best you'll be-"

"Your slut?"

"…yes," he agreed tentatively, casting a sideways glance at her as he spoke and half-expecting to have inflicted Swan's wrath once again. When she appeared to be less than incensed, he went on, "It couldn't hurt to act the part, actually," he paused, tempted to smirk at the sarcastic raise of her eyebrows. "But for all intents and purpose, you'll be my first mate."

"Moving up in the world, huh?" She joked weakly, but trailed off when she noticed the seriousness hewn into his expression. "So," she dropped her voice an octave, leaning against his dresser, looking him straight in the eye, "-just how dangerous is this gonna be?"

"This isn't going up against poison, or quicksand, or Neverland's beasts..."

"I dunno. I think I did pretty against the first pirate I met."

Hook shook his head at her, unable to find words that would take away that Swan-like bravado. "You'll need a better shirt than that," he mumbled finally, nodding to the large tears in the sleeves from when she had been caught by one of the many thorned bushes that adorned Neverland's jungles. He had meant to give her something else since it had happened, but knowing where he'd have to find something else small enough to fit her had made it simpler to put it off.

"What's wrong with this?"

"It's torn. And I certainly don't need any first mate of mine looking ragged." Hook could feel her eyes follow him to the bottom drawer of his dresser and he unknowingly took a short breath in before opening it little by little.

As his eyes swam over the diverse assortment of leather and frills, he felt his throat thicken, his chest tightening up like someone had him in a vice grip. The very idea of bringing Emma Swan aboard a large pirate ship - surely with a whole crew who hadn't seen a woman in who knew how long, sent his stomach churning, and the sight of the concurrently familiar and unfamiliar clothing only made it worse.

"Emma… If something happens to you because of me-"

"Then it'd be my choice."

"It's not that simple-"

"Why not?" She watched him rummage in the drawer silently, tempted to look closer, but still keeping her distance as he gathered a white piece of cloth and draped it over his hook. "Let's get this straight, Hook. Just because we've had _sex _doesn't mean you get to act like you have some say over me, because that was all it was," she repeated the words that she had spoken to her mother earlier that day in a tone that mocked confidence, wavering slightly at the end.

"And you think I'm treating it as otherwise?" he was careful to keep his voice level as he looked through the clothing, never once moving to meet her steady stare.

"You implied it pretty heavily back there before."

"If you recall, love, I had a _pressing _reason to," he snipped childishly despite a certain lack of the usual arrogance in his tone. "Fortunately, I'm thinking a bit more clearly now. Put this on," Hook grunted gruffly, pressing the surprisingly soft, white shirt into her hand before retreating back into a long neglected drawer, purposely ignoring her snort of offense at the hasty command.

"Excuse me?"

"Please put it on, love," he continued, his tone a bit softer now, his back remaining stubbornly to her. "If you're going to accompany me onto their ship, you'll at least have to fit in and that one you have on is nearly in shreds. There's no point in drawing attention to yourself."

"Right. Fine."

He had found what he had been searching for, but he couldn't bring himself to close the drawer, its contents and the awkward coldness he and Emma now shared dredging up entirely too many conflicting feelings that he didn't want to confront. Instead, he reached back into it and his hand brushed a rougher piece of cloth that rest next to where the shirt had. His eyes followed to where he had touched, knowing what he would find by pure recollection of the feel of it. He let his fingertips traverse the black laces that lay loosely undone behind it, languidly moving them across the embroidery on the front of it.

He hadn't touched that corset in years. He hadn't touched anything in the drawer for years, locked away, only kept alive in his thoughts through occasional dreams or memories that he didn't often visit.

A small pang of guilt struck him for neglecting these things, for neglecting his revenge, and then another for allowing himself the indulgence of looking at them now. He mentally berated himself for it, but he still let his fingers brush the cloth for a few more reverent seconds.

"Is this yours? The shirt?"

Emma's voice broke the silence and just like that, the moment was over. The slight fog of nostalgia lifted as he straightened himself, and without another thought to the drawer or his broken memories of what it held, he closed it.

"Yes, it was."He felt relieved, as if he had faced yet another of his many demons and made it out unscathed. "It always was too small for me to wear, so I haven't looked at it in years."

"Why not use it as rags or something?"

He paused, battling for a brief instant between the truth and a lie. "…Because it was made for me. Badly, I might add," he tried to jest his way out of revealing his vulnerabilities, but they had already been seen. Hook waited for an apologetic reply or even a small noise of sympathy, but nothing came.

Yet another relief.

After a short time spent in silence, he became vaguely aware of the sound of the zipper of her jacket unzipping – quite the handy feature of modern clothing, and one of the few he would like to fit to his own at times. His head turned slightly to the side, almost of its own accord, though not quite enough to see the woman behind him. He felt a small twinge of temptation to complete the turn and watch what he knew was happening behind him, to push away the beginnings of his old grief, when he heard a rustle of clothing being tossed to the floor. Instead, he stared at the faded shine of the wood before him, a small smirk on his face.

"Don't even think about looking, buddy," she warned, as if she were able to read his mind, and Hook let out a low laugh at the threat.

"I told you once before that I'm a gentleman, love."

"Sure, you are."

"And when have I acted otherwise?"

"I don't know," she responded, another rustle of clothing sounding in his ears. "What happened here about a month ago wasn't exactly gentleman-like."

"And what happened here this morning wasn't very lady-like," he sassed back, a slight sneer in his tone, his walls shooting up all too easily as soon as she had mentioned the day that still brought him guilt. He knew that it hadn't been an attack, but rather, an offer to talk about it, but he couldn't bring himself to dredge up even more feelings on top of the ones that he was already experiencing. "It seems we both have our flaws. It's in the past, love. What matters now is getting through this and getting to your boy."

"Good," she agreed with a hint of hurt in her inflection of the word. "I'm glad we agree."

There was a long pause, and this time, he couldn't resist the urge to turn and see why, worried that he had upset her in one of the few moments that she had practically offered to open up to him.

"You did this on purpose, didn't you?"

She spoke at the same time as he saw what she had been so quiet about, and despite him, a wide grin spread across his face. "I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about, love."

"Like hell, you don't," she tried to gripe at him, but instead it came out as an amused chortle. "Jesus, Hook! Your necklines are lower than some of mine," she said incredulously through wide eyes, looking down at her barely-contained bosoms.

"Would you like me to look for something else left behind by my old crew?" He suggested playfully, wriggling his eyebrows at her, already knowing the answer.

She rolled her eyes and let out a long, unamused breath. "Let's just go," she groaned. "Who knows? Maybe these will work to our advantage…"

**~ASMG~**

Everything that happened over the next few hours passed him a blur. Continued talks of plans and tactics, what Regina and Gold were to do should anything go wrong, the touching scene of Mary Margaret hugging her daughter goodbye and Charming giving her his gun that she promptly tucked into her waistband. All this was a blur compared to the ship that drew closer, nearly upon them, canons at ready but not firing.

Hook counted at least fourteen men aboard the worn, but beautiful vessel, once they were close enough to be seen– not the largest of crews, but easily outnumbering their six too easily for his liking. His eyes rose to the fifteenth member that stood stoically at the helm, watching them with an ever-vigilant stare. The man stood a few inches taller than him, his face tanned dark from the beating of the Neverland sun, with a broad chest and a square jaw, scruffy facial hair and wild, dirty-blonde hair that hung loosely around his ears, not quite long for a man, but not short either.

Hook heard Emma swallow hard from beside him as he watched a plank being extended from the other ship to theirs, inwardly bristling at the idea of another pirate ship boarding the Jolly Roger. When he glanced over to see how Emma was taking it, he noticed that her eyes were not on the joining of the ships, but rather, the vessel's captain.

"They _really don't_ make 'em like they do in the storybooks, do they?" she muttered under her breath, repeating her earlier sentiment half to him and half to herself.

He looked at her questioningly, about to speak when he saw the amused smirk teasing at her mouth and realized exactly what she had meant by the comment. "Pick your jaw up, Swan," he retorted brusquely, subconsciously moving to stand up straighter, chest puffed slightly, giving off an air of confidence to counter the unplaceable but unpleasant tingle in the pit of his stomach. "Follow my lead."

Hook ordered Charming and Mary Margaret to stay back while he allowed the men from the other ship board, gritting his teeth and forcing out an even expression as the crewmember's not so gently attempted to force them aboard the opposite ship – an accident that was swiftly corrected by a bark from the captain. As their grips loosened, he roughly withdrew his good arm from them, moving his hook into their view subtly, and he heard quiet murmurs of his name, both the old and the new.

"Well, if it isn't the captain of the Jolly Roger."

"Oh, so you've heard of me," Hook smiled a self-satisfied grin, tilting his chin upwards.

"I've heard of your _ship_. Rather unimpressive now that I've seen it first-hand," he replied noncommittally, a spark of mischief in his green eyes that met not Hook, but Emma's. "I'm Captain Isaac Redding and welcome aboard the Fortune's Desire."

"Quite the welcome you've given us. It's a shame that it took you so long to get to here," he continued to tease, keeping his mannerisms and tones light and airy and innocent.

"How could I not? It's not often that the _Fortune_ is graced with the presence of a lady. What may be your name?"

"Emma," she answered the question before Hook had to chance, ignoring the annoyed look that crossed his face.

Redding raised both eyebrows while casually glancing her up and down. "Sailing with one of your whores you just couldn't leave at port? Clearly, you pay no mind to superstition."

Hook had to curb his immediate reaction to want to punch the man, if only for the way that he had been undressing her with his eyes.

"It's a habit of his, Captain. Brings bad luck upon the whole crew."

The voice was undeniably familiar and it sent a small twinge of the anger that he had felt so vividly hours before storming back. "Bromley," Hook cast the offending crewmember a scornful smile, noticing that the man looked no more than ten years older in the near 30 that he had been gone. "Charming as ever, I see."

"You haven't changed a bit yourself," he quipped, nodding to Emma.

"Funny that you never thought to bring up your disdain to me when I was your captain," he warned in a low, threatening voice, and he felt Emma gently grasp the sleeve of his coat, pulling back slightly as if issuing her own warning to him.

Seemingly amused, but not eager to bring things to a head quite yet, Captain Redding held up a halting hand in the direction of Bromley, his gaze never leaving Hook's. "Fortunately for you both… I've never played into that particular superstition myself," he said, easily warding off any potential fight between the two. "Though it does take a brave man to force such things on another ship and her crew."

Hook let out a cold laugh. "I suppose that when you're as known and feared as Captain Hook, you can do as you please," he lifted the shining piece of metal, keeping his tone calm and even friendly. "Besides, negotiations typically take place between a captain and his most trusted crew member."

Redding eyed the hook carefully. "I suppose that you can... Come. Have a drink with me." He led them to a small, circular table that had been moved onto the deck, a flask resting where the captain took his seat, and 2 small glasses of it in front of them. "Tell me. What brings you to Neverland?"

"And I've sailed Neverland's seas for more than three hundred years. Perhaps I should be asking you what brings you here?"

Redding leaned in, suddenly interested. "And what brings you back? What is it you search for?"

"What do pirates always search for, mate?"

"My son," Emma interrupted firmly, and instantly, the captain's eyes went to her hazel ones. "We're here for my son."

Hook curled his hand into a fist beneath the table and fought back a huff of annoyance.

"And what is your son doing in Neverland?" a vague softness was hinted at in his voice. "The only ones here are the Lost who have no one to search for them and the natives… and why, pray tell, would Captain Hook want to help you find him?" Emma remained willfully mute, her jaw set. After what felt like forever to Hook, Captain Redding shifted his gaze to him. "This isn't just your whore, is she?" he shook his head with an unreadable expression, staring at the table, before taking a long swig from his flask. "A pirate with a family," he voiced quietly, as if to himself with a sour laugh. "You _are_ quite the anomaly, aren't you?"

Apparently, Emma saw something that he didn't in the pirate's expression or comment, because her posture changed along with the look in her eye as she leaned forward against the table. Hook wasn't sure if she had merely been caught up in the moment, or if she was purposely giving him a glorious view of her breasts, but regardless, she immediately had the captain's attention.

"Listen, here's the thing. We don't care what you're doing here and I really don't think that you give a damn about what we're doing, so why don't we just stay out of each other's way?"

Redding stared at her for a moment, as if in shock, then let out a hearty laugh and slapped his palm against the wooden table, grinning at Hook. "She has spirit."

"She has a kid who needs her," Emma shot back without a second's thought.

"Emma," the warning came from deep in his throat, as if he hadn't meant to utter the word at all, but neither were paying attention to him any longer, and a prick of jealousy struck him like a smack in the face when the captain moved his hand to cover hers, her body still leaned far over the table, meeting him eye to eye. The minor pang only grew when she didn't move right away to remove it.

"Tell me… How old is your boy, Emma?"

"He's eleven," she replied, slipping her hand out from under his calmly. "Now are you going to let us go or-"

"I could let you go," he interrupted her tersely. "You could go back to your ship and be on your way with the agreement that when the Fortune comes into your view, you immediately turn into the opposite direction… but perhaps I've heard talk of… strange things afoot. Things that haven't been heard of in Neverland in all of my years that I've spent here. Of new people, a man and a woman, losing a boy that they had in tow to the Lost Ones."

"What do you want?" Hook demanded, eager to feel as if these negotiations were back in his capable hand and hook, but he knew from the looks they were passing one to the other alone that this wasn't the case.

"What do you have?" he smirked, eyeing Emma once more as if she had asked the question herself.

"I have a lot of things, Buddy. One of them is my fist in your face if you don't stop looking at my chest. Same goes for if you call me a 'whore' again," she said with a thin smirk, tipping her head to the side with something akin to playfulness as she drew herself back from the table and into her chair. "Another one is that I'll do an awful lot to get my son back, with or without your help, but trust me - you do not want an angry mother as an enemy." She took the small mug of rum and downed it in front of the men, and as she did so, there was a faint glow of green at her fingertips that went far from unnoticed by the captain or Hook.

"Emma," he cautioned, nodding to her hands, making her jump in surprise at the magic that she hadn't realized she had nearly unleashed.

Redding chuckled and shook his head again. "You just get more and more fascinating, _Emma_."

"Wish I could say the same," she retorted with a sarcastic smile that reminded Hook of the unamused look she had given him time and time again when they had first met.

"I quite enjoy this one, Captain Hook. You _are_ a man of taste," he continued to laugh to himself, followed by a few snickers from his crew. "…I will take negotiations into consideration on one condition, because I assure you, magic or not, we outnumber you and whatever crew you may have on that ship of yours."

"I'm not here to play games, Redding."

"Then you'll listen to my condition." He lingered for a moment, letting the silence emphasize his point. "The negotiations are made between myself and the lady. Alone."

"No," the growl rose from Hook's chest the same moment as Emma said "deal" and draped her hand across the table for the pirate to shake, another smile forming on her lips. He grasped it firmly and slowly lifted it to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss on the back of her hand.

"I'm afraid my first mate can't make that choice without the approval from her captain," he snapped at her quickly, a small ball of fear growing in his belly.

"Then I guess I'm not listening to the captain."

"I swear to you by my honor as a pirate, no harm will come to her. I simply would like to… _talk_ with this fascinating woman that you've brought on board my ship."

"Anything you have to say to her can be said to me."

"I'll be fine," she assured him, a flicker of nervousness in her eyes as she pulled away from Redding's touch and stood up, preparing to follow him wherever he led her.

"Emma!"

"Killian… just stay here."

Hook's eyes narrowed to slits and it took all of his strength not to stand up and draw his sword, demanding again that all business be done with him, as he watched them stride across the ship, Emma moving as confidently as ever as if she weren't willfully walking into the lion's den. The captain met his eyes a final time with a predatory spark in his expression as he held the door to the lower deck and Hook's jaw tightened, his back teeth grinding painfully as he watched the other man's fingers lightly graze the small of her back when she took the first step down.

He was perfectly aware that the captain was toying with him, this was nothing more than a final show of power before he agreed to whatever offer that was given to him. It was clear by now that they meant them no real harm. They had their own agenda in Neverland - though what that may be, he couldn't grasp - there was no reason for him to want to needlessly put his men at risk for what little that they had, not when there weren't enough of his crew to captain both vessels.

Still, he hated the way that he had gawked at her.

Something about the way that she had looked at him when they first arrived made all of the glances and playful touches that Emma had received from him mean something, and that unfamiliar prick of annoyance and something else dug at him slowly, as if he were being eaten from the inside.

But neither Captain Hook nor Killian Jones enjoyed being toyed with, nor did he like to be at the mercy of another man – especially not with Emma concerned. It was a predicament he swore that he'd never allow himself to get into again, yet here he was, edging ever towards it because of his own foolishness. Perhaps he should have stuck with the original plan and brought Charming along, but she had certainly managed to charm the other pirate – _much like she had charmed him_ - while David's temper may have only served to thicken the tension between the two groups.

_"She's fine. The lass would never let anything happen to her that wasn't all in her own plan_," he reminded himself. _"But what wouldn't she do for Henry?" _The words sent a dark chill down his spine. She wouldn't stoop to that level and he was quite sure that Redding was merely showing him that he had the power in this situation and that he could do nothing about it, but the entire situation left him feeling sick and helpless – two things that Captain Hook had avoided for too many years to take lightly.

Twenty minutes passed and his fingernails were digging crevices into his palm that would show red when he finally removed them, but it was keeping him from recklessly swinging his hook at something or charging in after them, so he only tightened his fist as the seconds wore by at an agonizing rate.

_"Try something new, darling. It's called 'trust'."_ His own words rang in his head and he forced himself to take a calming breath. He did trust her. He trusted that she was Emma Swan. Intelligent, strong, _bloody brilliant_. She wouldn't let anything happen to her should negotiations go south, not without a fight, and with her father's pistol and that untrained magic at her fingertips, the element of surprise was in her hands.

"Quartermaster," he called to his prior crewmember, avoiding calling him by name, but by title. "Just how long does your captain need to conduct negotiations with my first mate?"

"She's hardly the first, now is she, Hook? Honestly, I don't understand the fascination."

His already shot nerves and the insinuations about the last woman he'd brought on the Jolly Roger hot in Hook's ears, pooled together with the other comments he had made earlier in their discussions, it didn't take a second before he was on his feet, hook and sword both brandished threateningly in the direction of the haughty sailor.

"Bromley!" The piercing bellow of the captain echoed behind them just in time, and Hook whirled to see Redding standing behind him, looking fierce and smug as Emma made her way back to his side. "Is that any way to treat our new friends?"

A look of relief washed over Hook when he saw that Emma was unharmed, and he overruled the powerful urge to wrap his arm around her waist and pull her into him. "All set, love?" He asked quietly, glancing at the captain suspiciously.

"The deal has been made, if that's what you're asking, Captain."

"And what was the deal exactly?"

"I'm afraid that's a personal matter between Emma and me... But I assure you, it was nothing that she wasn't one hundred percent willing to give up..."

Hook growled lowly, his hand reaching for the hilt of his sword when Emma grasped his wrist gently. "_Killian_. Just leave it. So we have a deal, Captain Redding?"

He nodded and smiled at her once again with the briefest flash of teeth. "I told you to call me Isaac… and that we do, Emma."

As they made their way back across the makeshift wooden bridge that connected the Jolly to the Fortune, Hook leaned in closer to her once again. "What did you give him?"

"Nothing important. Let's get back to the ship."

**~ASMG~**

Every nerve in his body seemed to be twitching and sparking as they safely made their way back to the Jolly Roger and watched Fortune's Desire sail away into the distance. He was barely aware of his own words as they explained to the rest of the ship what had happened and his ears only pricked slightly when Emma explained the knowledge that Captain Redding had provided her with about seeing Greg and Tamara fleeing the Lost Ones some weeks ago. He didn't have the brainpower at the moment to sift through what that meant or why the Lost Ones had turned on them, when he had assumed that they had been working towards the same end. Everything in his head was seething. How could she have been so stupid? What if something had happened to her? Her ability to tell if someone was lying wouldn't have helped her when she was already locked away in his quarters. Had she learned nothing all of his talks of how dangerous it was here?

With a few words about night falling and resuming their search in the morning, Hook found himself storming to his cabin. Part of him wanted to yell at her, to tell her every little thing that she had done wrong, regardless of the outcome. The other just wanted to kiss her, and then yell at her anyway, and then tell her how bloody fucking brilliant she was, even if she had nearly given him a heart attack in the process.

"Not sticking around for the dinner of victory fruit?"

Hook whirled around in surprise to see that Emma had followed him. "I'm not hungry."

"I know you didn't like what I did back there, but-"

"_Didn't like what you did?_ Bloody hell, Emma! You could have gotten yourself killed, or worse! Do you know what some pirates do to women who enter their chambers? Many much less willingly than you did, I might add," he chastised, the words spilling out fast and hot from his tongue. "Then where would your boy be?"

'_Where would I be if I had let that happen?' _was what he had wanted to say, but he kept his thoughts at bay as he stomped across the room, pacing angrily.

"He wasn't going to hurt me, Hook."

"You didn't _know _that," he grit out each word. "He was looking at you like you were a sodding four course meal, and-"

"And you were jealous."

"_Jealous_?" He almost cried out the word, anger flashing in his expression. "I offered you my ship and my services to save your son and you'd just trade that all away because a pirate you don't know sang you some hymn of knowing where your son was?"

"I can protect _myself_."

"You're fucking mad, Swan."

"And _you're_ fucking controlling!"

"Is it controlling to want to keep you alive, Emma? Because if so, yes, I'm a bloody jealous, controlling-" Instead of finishing his sentence with words, he grasped her wrist and yanked her body towards his, crushing her mouth with his lips hard enough to bruise, his hooked arm wrapping around her waist.

"Hook-"

Ignoring her protest, his good hand released her wrist to snake up into her hair, pressing her closer to him, when she pulled back. "What the hell?"

"What?" he mumbled against her lips before thrusting his tongue back into her mouth needily, his fingers threading into her hair. "You think you're the only one," he breathed, moving from her mouth to kiss down her jaw, "-who can take someone by surprise?"

"God, what's gotten-" she was cut off again by his lips, "into you?" she gasped, finding herself not caring as she melted into his kisses.

"You," he groaned deeply, tugging her even closer, before whirling her around and pressing her into his dresser so that she was almost sitting on top of the waist-height piece of furniture.

"I was trying to get my son back."

"And I'm trying to keep you alive so you can _do_ that," he snarled and kissed her again, swallowing her moan. "You just couldn't stop, could you, Lass? You had to introduce me to your amazing _mouth_," the possessiveness in his voice was even startling to himself, but after the range of emotions he had experienced that day, he wasn't about to stop if she kept responding to him like this. "You had to taunt me back there, with that _pirate_," he spat out the word like it was poison, like he wasn't one himself, as he worked his own mouth down her neck, curving behind her ear.

"I wasn't taunting. _What I did_, was save our asses," she managed, her hands already delving underneath his coat to push it off of his shoulders, her nimble fingers moving to the buttons of his vest when he obligingly shrugged the heavy coat to the ground. "And who says it was an act? Maybe I just have a thing for pirates."

"You're taunting _now_," he growled reproachfully, never once disconnecting his mouth from her skin as he removed his hook with a click, letting it fall to the ground, easing his vest off of his shoulders next with her help. "I seem to recall that you've sanctioned certain punishments for taunting," he rasped, his voice thick with desire as he reached his hand down to undo the many buttons of her old-fashioned trousers, eager to have her undressed first.

"You seemed to enjoy it," she panted, still managing to sound cocky, but shivering when she felt his fingers brush her bare skin beneath them.

He pulled back to watch her and the new look in his eyes was a mixture between their first and second time, so desperate, so on fire with lust. He was absolutely boiling with her for putting herself into danger and wanted to hold her and feel that she was alright, to demand to know what had happened below deck, but the other part of him that had been truly jealous for a moment made him want to hear her scream his name over and over again.

He could settle for _both_.

Emma gasped and her eyes fluttered closed when he returned to her and began licking and sucking down her neck in a hurried fashion, his fingers traveling further south with every second, inching past her belly button and stopping there. She let out a surprised yelp when he bit down at her pulse point, sucking at the spot, barely stopping short of creating an obvious mark when he felt her pull at his sleeve sharply, drawing him back to reality for a split second as if to tell him that they were already being obvious enough by disappearing into his cabin for a lengthy period of time – she wouldn't have him do _that_. Recognizing her meaning, he kissed his way down to her exposed collar, letting his eyes follow the deep v of the oversized shirt that nearly exposed her to him as it was, still holding her body against his possessively. Their bodies were pressed so tightly together that even with their clothes on, it left nothing to the imagination, and when Emma bucked her hips against his gently as he left a dark mark at the curve between her shoulder and her neck - safe from prying eyes - it hit just the right spot, sending a shock of pleasure through him, followed quickly by another when he felt her nip at his earlobe. She pulled at the flesh gently - that particular place always having been a particular weak spot of his - and for a moment he forgot what he was doing, groaning at the sensation of her pulling at his earring, tonguing it in her mouth along with his lobe as her hands roamed over his clothed chest and stomach. _Gods, why was that so incredibly arousing?_

He bit again into the mark he had already made and palmed her breast through the soft cloth of his shirt in response, an animalistic need to claim her in some way, just as she had done to him that morning, driving him.

Flashes of the other captain brushing her hand with his, touching the small of her back, the twenty minutes they spent alone in his personal quarters, and the way her jaw had dropped when she had seen him all drove him as he guided her from the dresser to the wall beside his bed that had seemed to have become their location of choice for foreplay.

"Killian, what are you-"

He covered her mouth with his lips again as she hit the wooden partition, a small gasp of pleasure leaving her lungs. With this new encouragement, Hook slipped his hand underneath the shirt, cupping her breast again firmly through her bra, before beginning to ease her shirt up and over her head. Her bra soon followed in a small pile on the floor, and as soon as it was gone, he wasted no time in dipping his head to suck at one hard nipple, then the other, swirling his tongue around her in a way not unsimilar to what she had been doing to him against that very wall earlier that day. She moaned and grasped at his hair, and he savored the idea that he had her at as much a loss for words as he had been.

As he made his way back up to her lips he bit down hard, kissing her again roughly and grinding his hips into hers, now aching and straining against his laces. It wasn't the moment to take his time with her, but the day had been too trying for him to be concerned with thoughts of the questioning looks they would receive. He was all fire and hunger and wanting _her_.

"I'm the only bloody pirate who gets to touch you," he growled greedily, intent on lunging in for another kiss, but as soon as the words left his mouth he pulled back and looked into her eyes searchingly, startled by the ideas that this own concerning, jealousy-driven words aroused. "Emma."

"What?"

"Love, he didn't…"

Her expression instantly changed from lust into pure offense as she struggled to catch her breath. "You really think that I'd allow something like that?"

He breathed a close to inaudible sigh of relief just before he attacked her throat with ravaging kisses, teasingly lowering himself once again to her chest and stopping any protests that she had thought about giving him in their tracks.

"Fuck," she breathed when he began kissing down the valley between her breasts, making his way to her flat stomach, gradually dropping to his knees as he did so, pulling both her pants and underwear down with him simultaneously.

"Boots," he commanded against her skin, cupping her ass as he continued to caress her stomach with his lips, occasionally giving her a sharp nip here and there that made her arch into him. The device that his hook had been attached to now rest against her opposite thigh, drawing her closer to him. She tried to comply with the order and kick the boots off, but it took some extra effort to do it without her hands and with him kneeling in front of her. Finally, she managed to get them and her socks off, allowing him to finish stripping off her pants and underwear, leaving her unfairly exposed.

"Isn't it your turn?"

Her question fell on deaf ears, her words dissolving into a moan as he moved lower and she instinctively spread her legs for him as he kissed even further down, prompting him where she hoped for his mouth to cover next. Her legs were already shaking slightly from the angle that she was leaning against the wall, arcing her hips forward in an effort to give him full access to her and he loved the way her muscles were trembling against him. He ran his scruff against her skin purposely, nuzzling as he moved down her right thigh, kissing along the side of it until his face was buried between her legs, so close to where he knew she wanted him to touch.

"_Killian_," his name fell from her lips all too easily and he could feel himself throb with desire at the thought of how effortless it would be to get her to say it over and over again that night.

He dipped his head once more, moving away from her heat and licking her inner thigh in a long, drawn out motion, coaxing a moan and a sighed "_oh god_" from her as she pulled her hips closer to him. He turned his head to repeat the action on her other thigh, his beard rubbing against both of her legs and g_ods, he wanted to taste her as much as she wanted it. _But he was enjoying torturing her far too much to stop. He continued his teasing kisses against her for a few more moments, then he drew himself back up from his kneeling position, peppering hot, open-mouthed kisses along her smooth skin as he did.

Emma's face was flushed when he was eye-level with her once again, and she looked as if she were going to say something, when suddenly her eyes closed and she threw her head back, hitting the wall lightly, but not seeming to care as his fingers slipped inside of her. Her lips parted in a silent moan, the soft sound of a gasp enough praise for him as he thrust his fingers upward once more, his thumb rubbing lazy circles just above where he had entered her, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through her. He pushed his body close to hers, enjoying the heaving of her chest and he continued to tease her.

"Do you like me touching you like this?"

If Hook had ever been accused of being a selfish lover, it wasn't for his lack of foreplay. If anything, he was selfish for _this_ – seeing his partner gasping and panting for him in the throes of passion, staving off his own desires until he had his fill of hers, sometimes over and over, if his mood allowed it.

"This wall has become quite accustomed to our foreplay," he stated lightly, still thrusting his digits into her gently, moving his thumb faster against her now, the mixture of rushed and slow movements proving further torturous. His hookless attachment moved to the shallow, curved indent that he had made in the wood that morning and he leaned in closer, his nose brushing her ear. "Shall I have to you against it?"

"Stop fucking teasing, Killian," she moaned when his fingers curled perfectly inside of her, bringing her even closer to her peak.

"Answer the question, love," he prompted, his tone passing between playful and possessive. There was that greed again, wanting to make her beg, wanting to not feel so vulnerable to her and to give into the lust that plagued him all too frequently.

"You're a bastard," she replied in suit, but her hand was moving quickly past his to undo his laces and draw him out, knowing that the moment she wrapped her fist around him, his overconfidence and determination would falter.

"I thought you enjoyed teasing?" he hummed, his lips brushing against her neck as he continued to touch her, hissing slightly when she gripped him suddenly, moving her hand up and down his length. Her own movements knocked against his wrist, make him press harder into her.

"_Siren_," he accused her breathily, rocking his hips into her hand and curling his fingers once again inside of her in an effort to push her even closer.

He couldn't remember another time that he had felt his body so hard for her, his head – quite possibly not the one that rest on his shoulders - screaming at him to take her with every passing second, but he waited. He waited until she was shaking and whimpering against him, barely able to hold herself up, much less contain herself, his ministrations just light enough not to allow her to fall over the edge that she had been so quickly approaching.

"_Killian_," he name was long and drawn out in a near whine as she furiously bucked her hips into him, stroking him faster and more desperately the closer she felt.

At last, he removed his hand and used it to draw her leg around his waist, not waiting for the other to follow before he thrust into her hard. He kissed her to quiet her cry then thrust again feeling her begin to quiver around him. On the third, deep thrust, he tucked his forehead into her shoulder and she let out a marvelous sound between a squeak and a strangled moan when she came, followed by a sighed out "_fuck, fuck, fuck_", her release washing over her. He smiled into her skin, letting out a soft growl, and continued to roll his hips into hers like an endless assault, knowing that the combination of her passing orgasm and the increased speed of his movements were forcing her body into submission and hopefully pushing her to a second release.

He was moving inside of her fast and hard, their skin slapping together, their breaths rough and heavy, and he should be feeling his own familiar build brought on by the pace, but he felt as if he could go forever, a rush of empowerment that he received from pleasing her driving him. He felt her nails dig into his back, scraping across him, leaving a slight stinging sensation, but it was all pleasure to Hook, the pain only making him want to push her closer to her next peak. She was nearly sobbing into his neck, fighting to muffle her moans against his glistening skin, her scratches trailing up to his shoulders, one hand straying into his dark, shaggy hair and pulling, struggling to find _something_ to hold onto. He'd never felt her this way. It seemed as if every time with them was different and amazing in its own way, every new emotion urging on the intimate frenzy of naked bodies yanking the other closer, as if they wanted to pull the other into them entirely.

Just as he felt her start to shake and heard her moans take on that needing lilt that he had come to recognize, he became aware that he was still almost fully dressed, the buttons of his shirt half undone, and his leather pants hanging loosely around his hips.

"Wrap your arms around my neck, darling," he groaned, waiting for her to comply before walking – more like barreling – towards the bed, letting himself fall on top of her onto it. It wasn't an easy feat to walk even a few steps while still trying to remain inside of the person that you were carrying, but he managed it, able to rapidly fall back into a rhythm as he scooted them all the way onto the bed. As if his body wouldn't physically let him part with her, he thrust into her deeply a few more times, pulling out of her with the utmost reluctance before he could lose himself in her again.

"Wh-what are you doing?"

He grinned at the look of horror on her face when he realized that she thought that he had planned all along to leave her in a similar state that she had left him that morning. Rather than reply, he let her look on in confusion as he hastily removed his boots and pants, nearly ripping the shirt from his chest before climbing back into bed with her, grasping at the wrist of her hand that had traveled down her body to help ease the ache that he had created in her abdomen.

"Starting without me, love?" he smirked, unable to bite back the loud grunt when she guided him back into her more quickly than he had expected. "I _do love_ having you on your back," he whispered worshipfully into her ear as he began to move again.

"I think… you just like… doing less work."

"Hardly. We've seen what happens-" he said, pushing into her with hard, long strokes, "-when you do all the work, love." His hand mercifully – or mercilessly, depending on how he looked at it - drifted back down between her legs as his thrusts increased in pace, his face buried into her breasts, his back arched slightly to angle his thrusts exactly where she liked it. "_Gods_… So good, Emma," he moaned.

"Killian…"

"_Yes, love_," he groaned, agreeing with the sentiment more than answering her.

He couldn't help but shudder when he heard her moan for him like that.

_Mine. _

The word played through his head with every dominating stroke and he almost growled it into her neck, only barely stopping himself. She wasn't his. He could never own something as wild and free as this Swan girl, nor would he want to, but _gods_ in this moment he felt like she was his. Not physically. Not because she had to be, but because she wanted him as much as he wanted her, because her walls were down and so were his.

"Emma," he said her name again, and she lifted her hips to meet his even faster, begging him to make their already rough pace even more frantic.

He had wanted to tease her more, to bring her to the edge and then pull her back, over and over again until she came for him _hard_, but his own impending release was becoming too much to handle.

"Come with me, Emma. _Gods_, come with me, love," he found himself to be the one begging as he felt her tighten around him. His fingers rubbed against her with a new determination, and with a few more erratic thrusts, she was crying out his name feebly against the waves of her orgasm and dragging her nails down his back, creating new marks with the old. The tightening of her inner muscles, the pain of her nails, and the intoxicating sounds that tore from her throat sent him over the edge and his vision went white as he came with a wordless groan, stilling as he let his release overtake him, his fingers gripping into her hip.

"Oh god," she breathed beneath him, still coming down from her high as he collapsed against her, taking a moment to remember to roll off of her.

"Emma..." He bit down on her shoulder to compensate for the thrills that were still running through him, pulling her body into his tightly, her chest flush against him. He ran his tongue over the bite gently in apology when he felt her tense, his hand massaging her breast idly and grazing his lips against her neck.

It was quiet and perfect and so amazingly calming to hold her in his arms as their breathing returned to normal.

"I'm not yours," Emma broke the silent reverie of the moment, willingly resting her head against his chest and running her fingertips across his stomach, making the taut muscles twitch beneath her touch.

Killian didn't know if she could read his mind and body that well, or if he had actually let the word slip outloud. He chuckled against her shoulder, his previous jealousy dimmed to nothing by his release and the feeling of her. "I could never own you, Emma," he paused for a moment to nuzzle her neck, his lips and breath barely kissing her skin there, finding himself entirely unable to stop touching her. "Y_ou possess me_," he breathed into her hair, unsure if she had heard him, unsure if he had _wanted_ her to, but regardless, it was beginning to feel true.

She never left his mind and it wasn't just because of their occasional trysts.

"Stay with me tonight…" and it wasn't a command, but a humble plea. She let out a long sigh, and he knew from that singular sound that she wouldn't. The slight tension entering her body was telling him that he had already lost, but he couldn't stop himself from trying. "You've been in my cabin for almost an hour, love. If they're going to suspect something, it's already suspected."

"I just… can't."

"Why not?"

"Because staying the night isn't just _staying the night_, Killian. You know that."

"Then what is it?"

"It's… it's commitment."

"I hardly think that I've proposed marriage," he scoffed, scrunching his face slightly and holding her against him tighter. "If I did, your world has odd customs, love," he stretched his neck slightly so that he could kiss the shell of her ear, smirking mischievously and lowering his voice to a rasp, "…maybe I just want to have you again before morning."

He wasn't holding his breath.

It only took a few, lazy seconds before she pushed away from him gently, and he swore that he heard her whimper quietly with regret as less and less of her body was touching his. "We have a long day tomorrow, Killian. We should both get some rest."

He expected her to stand up and gather her clothes as she had the last two times, but she stared at him for a long moment. Finally, her lips quirked into a smile that he couldn't decipher.

"What?"

"You need a haircut, you know that? You're starting to look like one of those shaggy dogs."

He eased himself further into the bed, relaxing a bit at the playful turn the conversation had taken. "Are you offering your services?"

"You think I know how to cut hair? You'd end up bald."

"Would you still find me as striking if I were?"

Her smile grew wider and she shook her head with a soft laugh. "Honestly? No. I don't think bald is a good look for you, pirate."

"Then I suppose I shall have to remain as I am," he smirked, shaking his head so his hair flopped back and forth with it. He watched her for a long time, the silence between them saying more words than they had their entire stay in Neverland, and when she didn't leave, his courage returned to him as he reached for her hand. "Stay with me, Emma," he pulled her back down to him.

Her body froze, but then slowly but surely, she relaxed and let him bring her back into bed with him. "I'm not sleeping here tonight."

"Talk with me a bit, love. Show a lonely, sleepless captain some sympathy."

"Are you kidding me? I think the lonely captain is going to sleep just fine tonight," she replied with raised eyebrows as she allowed herself to be tucked into his chest, a bit like a child cuddling a teddy bear.

"_Emma_…"

She pursed her lips together and met his eyes, not answering for a long moment. "..._Ok_," she replied finally, a quiet defeat in her tone of voice, and he could almost see the fear in her eyes as she agonizingly let one of her walls fall around her, leaving her vulnerable to him. "-but just for a few minutes."

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**_A/n: I wanted to include the actual conversation, but this chapter obviously got WAY too long, so you'll have to wait to see what they talked about until next time. ;) I hope you all enjoyed it!_**

**_Review?_**


	5. Passion

_**A/n: Your detailed, wonderful reviews make me so happy! Thank you all so much! For that, you get another long chapter! Yay! lol I just can't seem to get everything into these chapters that I want though. That's what I get for limiting myself to a certain number of them. Only one left now! Also, just so you know, this is the chapter that inspired the entire fic. Seriously. The idea of them and "passion" and being in Neverland. I've had the sex scene idea in my head for MONTHS and this was originally going to be a oneshot, but I wanted to build more of a story around it. I hope you all enjoy!**_

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**Passion **

Emma rolled over for the fourth time in the past five minutes, struggling to get comfortable in the small, saggy cot that somehow passed for a bed, making it creak eerily in the darkened room. Her back ached and every position felt no better than the one before it. It had never been exactly cozy, but the gentle swaying of the Jolly Roger moving with the slow rise and fall of the current beneath them had often helped lull her to sleep. Tonight, the sea's movements did her no such courtesy. The crew quarters - which were really nothing more than a large, open room with several cots and a few assorted boxes of supplies - were cold and spacious with enough room to sleep at least twenty people easily, but somehow, that made it feel even less inviting rather than it be a comfort. Everyone was spaced out now, sleeping on opposite corners of the room, as far away from each other as possible to give off some semblance of privacy, but on quiet, restless nights like that, it would have been nice to feel like she wasn't alone.

_"What are you thinking, love?" Hook's arms circled around her, one beneath her shoulders cradling her back to his chest, and the other wrapped securely over her waist like a lifeline, as if to keep her from drifting further away from him with every rock of the waves. _

_"I'm not thinking about anything." Liar. She'd been thinking about him. About how it felt to be in his arms. Safe. Protected. She'd been thinking about staying in them – or rather, mentally talking herself out of wanting to stay in them. _

_There was a short pause. _

_"I can feel you thinking." _

_Emma snorted, letting out a humorless laugh along with it at the absurd comment. "How do you feel someone think?" Of course she was avoiding the unasked question. He'd asked her to stay and talk and she wasn't talking. There had to be a reason why and he was curious. And she had been thinking… but it was none of his business. He could read her so damned well already, she wasn't going to clue him in on the things that he didn't seem to just intuitively know. She had to have some secrets. _

_Especially when they concerned her feelings for him. Those were hers and hers alone._

_"You were amazing, you know," he breathed, and the mood shifted tangibly. His tone hinted at admiration and something else that made Emma stiffen in his arms. _

_"Yeah, well, you weren't so bad yourself," she mumbled back, forcing herself to relax. She could do this. As much as the untrusting, scared part of her hated to feed his ego or let him compliment her like they did this every night, it was better than sharing her thoughts. There were much riskier admissions than him being good in bed. Besides, it wasn't as if it was a lie. That man made her feel and do and think and want things during sex that she had never expected and it scared the hell out of her that he made her want him so much. _

_He chuckled. "That's not what I meant… though you were bloody incredible. You're always incredible," he whispered into her hair, his breath warm and comforting. His voice had taken on that low, lusty rasp – his sex voice - that sent chills down her spine whenever he used it. "I meant back there… on that other ship." He spoke as if the memory of it still made him anxious, his arms tightening around her slightly, but there was also a certain earnestness there. "With all my knowledge, that sod had no interest in me and you didn't hesitate. You did what you had to without fear." Another pause. "…You acted like a pirate." _

_"I'm not a pirate, Hook. I just did what I had to for Henry." Emma sighed, subconsciously closing her eyes and pressing her head into his shoulder, shifting her own so she could wriggle down further into his warmth to fight away the slight chill in the room. Her eyes shot open when she realized that she had just snuggled. No. Shut it down, Emma. It feels too good, so it must be bad. "It was nothing." She couldn't help raising an eyebrow, a new, lighthearted thought occurring to her as she scooted away from him just enough so he wouldn't be tempted to tug her back. "And he wasn't that scary. I'm starting to think all pirates are softies."_

_"Killian." The quiet correction caught her off guard and would have normally annoyed her, but the pleading way that he said it sent alarm bells ringing instead. _

_"I…" Just change the subject, Emma. "-think we should go to Skull Rock." Smooth, Emma. Smooth. _

_"I suppose we should," he replied slowly, as if processing the subject change and accepting it, despite his willingness and even desire to speak of something deeper. "It's a few miles off of the coast on another part of the island. Quite a bit of a journey, but if that's where Greg and Tamara were seen last-"_

_"It was. He was telling the truth," she interrupted firmly. She knew he had been telling the truth. She had read something in the other man that he hadn't meant to let slip. Something familiar. "And besides, if there's any hope of finding a clue to where Henry could be, I want to go. I think everyone else would agree."_

_"I never said otherwise, Lass. There's no need to talk me into it," he reminded her with a soft smile. "…Emma?"_

_"What?" It was insane how nervous she got every time he said her name like that, worried what the next question or comment would be, unpleasantly unsure about what it would mean. It amazed her how vulnerable and open he allowed himself to be after sex, or maybe it was just after sex with her. It wasn't something that she had often practiced, and she never knew what would come out of his mouth next. _

_"What did you promise him?"_

_His sincere tone of voice spoke of terrifying things, she had to stop it. "I gave him a blowjob, what did you think?" she replied sarcastically, hoping to get a rise out of him. She could deal with 'irritated, jealous Hook', but 'mushy, vulnerable Killian' was a different can of worms that she wasn't willing to open quite yet. _

_"Emma," he growled, squeezing her tighter and nuzzling his face into her hair that was spread out over his chest and shoulder, as if he were threatening her with affection if she didn't tell him the truth – the opposite reaction than she had been anticipating. _

_"He has a kid too," she found herself answering him honestly. "All that talk of pirates with families and the way he looked at me when I said we were looking for my son… Major tell. I used it to my advantage. That's all." _

_"You threatened his child?"_

_"I offered him a pardon. Once we get Henry back and go home. We talked. Apparently he got into some trouble back in the Enchanted Forest, the really bad kind. If his record is wiped clean, he can stop hiding in Neverland and see them again, he can have a new life… even if the kid is probably grown up by now." _

_"Is what you offered even possible? Will he just return in a year's time, blindly trusting that you've kept your side?" _

_"I don't know. All I could think of was Henry and he was desperate enough to take the deal. But we- David and Mary Margaret are going back there eventually. They're royal and so is Regina. If it meant getting Henry back, I don't think they could say no," she told him, blushing a bit at the awe in his tone, relieved that he couldn't see her face._

_"Why did he trust you?" _

_"Just have one of those faces, I guess," she commented casually, shrugging her shoulders. _

_"…Bloody brilliant," he responded, and she could have sworn she heard 'bloody perfect' sighed out after it. _

_She couldn't be sure and she didn't want to think about the possibility. She didn't want to think about how right it felt to be in his arms, how seamlessly her body molded against his, and about how good it had felt to hear him moan her name into her ear like he was giving his entire being to her in that moment. Most of all, she didn't want to think about how much she cared about him even if she didn't want to and how angry that made her. It wasn't fair. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. She was supposed to be alone, protected by her own wits and walls with only Henry at her side – the only man in her life that she truly needed, except for maybe her newfound father. _

_She wasn't supposed to fall for a pirate. _

_"I should go. I have a hell of an excuse to make up," and as joking as she had intended to be, she hated herself for sounding as if she were really asking him to convince her to stay. _

_"What do you mean?" He propped himself up on his elbow so he could look down at her. "We were simply discussing our plans for tomorrow," he went on, placing a tender kiss on her bare shoulder. "Discussions that happened to get you very worked up and also caused you to develop a rather rosy tint to your cheeks." _

_"Shutup, Killian." The name slipped out without her meaning it to. _

_"What? Are you not sated, Emma?" Damn him and that raspy tone again._

_His face was close to hers, his lips barely brushing her cheek and she had to get away. She had to move now, before this all became too much to handle. The feelings. The good fucking feelings mingling with the legitimate panic attack she was about to have from letting herself get this close to someone again. _

_"Stop asking things you know the answers to," she retorted dryly - not willing to admit it again but also not willing to lie - sitting up fully now and rolling her eyes, managing to sound like the old, stubborn Emma that she tried so hard to keep up around him. "I'll see you in the morning."_

_And she had hoped that was that._

_"I look forward to it, love."_

_Damn him._

It'd been four days since she had been in his arms and now in the cold, dank hold of the ship, she wished for a fleeting but treacherous moment that she could sneak into his cabin and be surrounded by those arms again, to feel that protection and warmth and drift off to a sleep that her body so desperately needed.

But she couldn't do that.

She _wouldn't_ do that. Not with the way that he had been acting since that night when she had allowed another piece of her wall to come down.

It had been as if all the awkwardness and tension that they had so carefully built up between them had come crashing down after that night, and while Emma ran from it, Killian had fully embraced it.

He knew she had felt something for him. He said could _feel_ her thinking! And knowing that she had felt something – that he had _made her_ feel something, only caused him to gain more confidence in the advances that he had so painfully avoided making in the past months. He knew that she wanted him and he was done running from his feelings, even if she hadn't quite gotten there yet. He seemed determined to make her let go of even more of her walls, as if the one wasn't painful enough.

_Emma silently slipped from Killian's cabin and back into the crew quarters, avoiding her mother's questioning looks from where she sat huddled on both her and David's pushed-together cots, talking quietly in the dim lighting. Based on the cross between a worried and protective look that David gave her, Mary Margaret hadn't exactly kept their conversation a secret. What had she really expected from Snow White and Prince Charming? They could probably read each other's minds at this point. "Kind of like he can read-" she stopped the thought in its tracks, continuing her way across the room, relieved when they didn't go any further than casting their singular looks in her direction. She let herself curl up in her cot with her raggedy blanket and drift off to an exhausted sleep faster than she had expected that she would, her relaxed muscles and general weariness from the day overtaking her._

_The next morning, she stood on the main deck, leaning over the railing, enjoying the light spray of the salty water on her face. It was her favorite thing to do in the morning, wake up to the cool air and mist of sea water. She glanced over to where Hook stood proudly at the helm, looking all kinds of calm and in control and damn him again, satisfied. He looked like an overly tense man that had just gotten laid for the first time in weeks, and even though it was true, she still felt like it was some sort of taunt, as if everybody could tell the reason for his exceptional mood. _

_"Swan! Could you come up here for a moment?" _

_His voice rang out in his typical commanding tone, and she reluctantly made her way to where he kept a steady hand and hook on the wheel, his eyes never once leaving the sea as he steered the wheel a notch to the right. _

_"What do you want, Hook?"_

_"Just your company," he shrugged, grinning without looking at her. _

_"Seriously?" She placed a hand on her hip, about two seconds from turning around and going back to her spot at the railing. _

_"Honestly."_

_"Why?" _

_"Is it such a crime to enjoy your company?" His voice went from happy and light to low and gravelly. "You didn't appear to think so last night…" Emma stayed stubbornly silent, pretending that she hadn't heard that last part of the comment, but the pigheaded pirate refused to be ignored and he knew exactly how to get her attention. "What's this on your neck, Swan?" he whispered, leaning a few inches to the side, his hand on the wheel and eyes never moving from the ocean. Emma instinctively placed her fingers to her neck, feeling the fading, rash-like bumps that were still there – something she had played off as an allergic reaction when her mother gave her that horribly knowing look that made her want to scowl. _

_He was incorrigible. She hated it… And she didn't. _

_"Sorry, love, but I've never been one to keep entirely trimmed," he continued to smirk, and Emma was about to roll her eyes, walk back downstairs and ignore him –in action if not in thought, when he made it even worse as he calmly added, "I wonder if your thighs have them as well?" _

_Chills. Fucking chills. That wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to go back to being awkward and distant, he wasn't supposed to act like anything happened. Fortunately, he wasn't being obvious. It looked to anyone else that they were talking about what they would talk about any morning – where they were headed, where they would look next – not the fucking beard burns that may or may not be on various places of her body!_

_"I guess you'll never know," she shrugged, feeling pleased with the remark, hoping that he would leave it at that. _

He didn't.

Despite his new advances, if anything could be said about him, he had been a man of his word. Unwilling to shirk his duty of doing his damnedest to find Henry, he was all business when they were in the jungle or discussing their plans for the following day as they slowly sailed their way to Skull Rock, still watching the globe eagerly for the next nearby flicker that indicated Henry's presence - but before they left the ship in the mornings or after the sun had gone down, it was as if he transformed into a different person. No longer the impressive, serious captain that he had been for three months, it was back to the man that she had met on the beanstalk, all playfulness and innuendo and dangerous words when no one could hear them.

She loathed the knowledge that the things he said and did excited her.

_Like that kiss._

Emma's heart raced in her bunk, and a slight warmth spread over her when she remembered how he had pressed her up against the wall of the galley after breakfast and kissed her less than 10 seconds after her parents had left the room. It had been chaste but sensual, even playful, something generally different for them on two out of three counts. It had only lasted seconds and he didn't attempt to make it into anything more than what it was. He just gave her that horrible – and insanely attractive – smirk and casually walked out, chest puffed like a freaking peacock because she had kissed him back without hesitation, as if that _meant something_ other than that he'd caught her by surprise and he wasn't so bad to kiss. Another second and Emma had been left alone in the empty room, breathing harder than she should be against the wall, hormones racing at the tingle left in her lips from where he had kissed her, wondering if he had actually just done that.

Trying to push away the memories that sent her stomach fluttering, Emma pulled the scratchy covers around her tighter, now thinking of how the blanket on his bed seemed softer and heavier, and how the real 'mattress' – if a bit worn and lumpy – was much more welcoming than this hard cot was. That's all it was. She missed his bed. She couldn't sleep because she was uncomfortable, and almost four months of this crap was enough. Her body had had enough. That made sense. It wasn't because days of his teasing torments and affectionate gestures had made her not only want him but just want to be _around_ him.

It was just his bed.

With these dishonest thoughts and a few more turns and creaks in her cot, she found herself falling asleep.

She was woken up all too soon by the sounds of movement and a loud, familiar voice calling and knocking at their door, followed by heavy, tromping steps up to the main deck.

"It can't be morning yet," she groaned out her thoughts inadvertently, rolling off one side of the cot and barely moving her feet underneath her in time to catch herself.

"Troubles sleeping, Ms. Swan?" Gold asked her, definitely too cheerfully for this early, and definitely too cheerfully when addressing someone who had gotten less than four hours of sleep.

"Yeah, you got a potion for that?"

His lips quirked at the sides. "Perhaps, though I'm afraid that it would be back at my shop, dearie."

"Maybe you should ask the captain?" Regina suggested seemingly innocently. "I'm sure he knows of something in Neverland that could help – though perhaps you've already discovered an even more natural remedy…"

_Perhaps you should shut your mouth._ She all but said it, really getting tired of the Queen's coping mechanism that seemed to make her cattier every day. _Is my sex life really that interesting to you?_ Instead, she cast her a thin smile, commenting that she'd be sure to ask him about it as she walked out of the room. She was eager to feel the fresh air on her face again, hoping that maybe it would help wake her up. Anything but the still, cold moistness of the room she was in now.

After dinner that evening, Emma hung back when everyone disappeared from the table, presumably back to finish the nightly chores and then to their cots to take advantage of the calm weather that allowed them to call it an early night. It was her turn to clear the table – a godsend, seeing as she was still too exhausted to think about doing any heavy work on the main deck. It was surprising how tired a day of sailing could make you, as long and boring as it was. She even missed the days of hiking through the jungle, with all of it's insects and that dreaded heat. Henry's dot had, for a moment that day, been close enough for them to divert their course, nearly making it back to the island when it again jumped away from them. Gold seemed to think that the magic of the globe was affected by the flow of Neverland's magic, like a computer glitch, or a cellphone losing reception. To Emma, it was as if they were flying him to different locations, somehow knowing whenever they got close – something that Hook didn't seem to think was incredibly far off from the truth. Regardless of which theory was fact, there was no point in following it every time as they had the first 2 months. It wasted too much time. If Greg and Tamara had been at Skull Rock like Redding had said, if it _were_ some sort of base camp for this group that wanted her son, then that was where they needed to go.

She had to at least try the only legitimate lead they had gotten in weeks.

Emma quietly gathered up the mugs they had used and put them aside, leaning over the table and reaching for the last tin cup. It was just barely out of her reach, her fingertips touching the lip as she let out an annoyed groan and stretched even further. Her mind was still heavy with thoughts of discovering Henry and violent battles with the shadow that still occasionally haunted her dreams, and she had just grasped the mug when she felt a hand brush against the small of her back, drifting lower as it slipped from her body and she let out an embarrassingly loud yelp, whirling around to see Hook grinning like a fool.

What was he? A freaking cat? Or maybe he _was_ a ninja. It would explain all of the black. How did anyone move that silently?

"What the fuck, Hook?"

She wanted to punch him. She almost did, if only to get rid of the pent up tension from the week, but she knew what happened when they got angry with each other and it was too close to nightfall to risk something like _that_.

"What, love?" he asked innocently. "I just thought I'd see if you needed help."

"Thanks for the offer. Though shockingly, I don't need any help with my ass today," she snapped, careful to keep her voice down so her parents wouldn't hear them, ignoring the curl of his lips and the light in his eyes that said he had a far less than savory comeback that he was fighting to keep in. "That's harassment, you know," she grumbled, and it wasn't. His proximity was already making her want him to touch her again.

"Not if you enjoy it," he read her mind and walked dangerously close, his cheek nearly brushing hers as he leaned in. "Stay with me tonight…" he murmured, not teasing, not telling, but asking. His nose brushed her ear, sending a shiver down her spine and dammit, _she wanted him_.

"I…don't think that's such a good idea."

He shrugged and tipped his head to the side noncommittally. "A lot of amazing things aren't."

_Really? Amazing? _

"Make yourself useful and get that cup for me."

His raised his eyebrows and drew himself back as if she had threatened to strike him. "Bossy, Lass," he teased as he made his way to other side of the table to obey, picking up the small goblet pointedly. "You know, you could have just walked over here… though in that case, I wouldn't have gotten the lovely view."

"Shouldn't you be steering the ship or something?"

"We laid anchor an hour ago, darling. You helped." He stated with an amused laugh as he handed her the cup and let his eyes drift to hers. "Are you alright, love?"

"Just fine. Tired. _Too_ tired," she replied without thinking, quickly catching herself before he could repeat his earlier offer. "So how far away are we?"

"We should be able to see Skull Rock in the far distance by mid-morning, should the weather remain on our side."

"Good," she nodded, feeling a small thrill of excitement followed by a tightening in her chest.

In less than twenty-four hours she could be looking at the place that held all the answers to where her son was. She could have Henry in her arms in days. This could be _over_. She glanced over at Hook, who still had his steady gaze fixed on hers, no longer full of mischief. His eyes held a seriousness at her mention of the place that lent to a new and chilling thought. They could _die_. Any of them. Her parents, Regina, Gold… _Hook_. She swallowed hard. She was willing to die for Henry, but she had never dwelt long on the possibilities of losing anyone else close to her and suddenly, there was so much more at stake. _Henry was worth it._ They were all willing to give up what they had to in order to save him, but she didn't _wan_t to keep losing everybody who had ever been important to her.

She didn't want to lose _him_.

"You seem tense." His words were gentle and anxious and laced with genuine care.

Emma clenched her fist and dug her fingernails into her hand. He didn't have the right. He didn't have the damn right to be sweet and worried about her after screwing her and ignoring her the last few months, even though that's exactly what she had been wishing for him to do again after the last time. He didn't have the right to act as if they could have a future and be more than a quick fuck to ease tension and keep going the next day. He didn't have the right to keep making her _care _about him like this, like they _had never_ been just a meaningless source of relief on nights when life got too difficult. It wasn't fair to make her want two complete opposites so desperately. Leave me alone, but also stay and touch me more – when the hell had she reverted to the mind of a teenager?

"I'm just fine, Hook."

"Emma," he reached for her tightly clenched hand and gently unfurled it, his fingers lingering in her palm as he looked into her confused, frustrated, pain expression. "What is it? If it was what I-"

"Please, just stay away from me." She was begging him. She didn't want to slip any further away from the protection that she had built around her heart, she didn't want to knock down the walls anymore.

Hurt flickered in his eyes and he quickly released her hand with a curt nod as he turned towards the room's exit. "Make sure you get some sleep. I want an early start tomorrow."

All playfulness and care had been removed from his tone, all that remained was the commanding captain that was going to lead them to Henry. At least she thought that's all that was left.

"My door is always open for you…"

She didn't answer. She kept her back facing towards him, half hoping that he'd leave and half hoping that he'd come back and demand that she talk to him until she couldn't hold all of this conflict inside of her anymore.

But he didn't come back.

He gave her space.

He was a gentleman when it counted after all, even if he did make inappropriate comments or do things that set her blood boiling in all the rights ways.

She finished clearing the table and made her way back to her cot, nearly collapsing into it, the exhaustion from her lack of sleep the night before and her battling emotions all too much for even the cold to keep her awake tonight. Before she drifted off, she found herself remembering times when she used to read a book with a glass of wine or watch a movie between dinner and bedtime, but now it was as if that time no longer existed. She lived from meal to meal, sleep to sleep… night with him to night with him.

She was too tired to bother caring about thinking that last one.

_"Henry!" _

_Emma heard her mother's cry before she saw her running towards her son who was being held by a haughty-looking Lost One. He was different than the others. He was smaller, younger, but the evil glint in his eyes and the strength with which he was holding her child told her that he was anything but a boy. Emma flew forward, sword in hand, ready to join her mother in her charge when she saw an arrow whisk through the air and everything began to move in slow motion. She could hear the long, keening whistle of the arrow echoing through the cave, and each second it only seemed to move an inch as it got closer and closer to an unaware Mary Margaret. _

_She felt almost frozen in place. She wanted to move. She wanted to scream for her mother, but she was moving in slow motion too and every movement played out like she were trying to run through quicksand. _

_"Mom! Grandma!" _

_Her son's terrified voice reverberated through the cavern and her eyes moved sluggishly to him as he fought against the boy and the dagger that he held to his neck. She watched a scarlet bead of blood slide down his chin where he had been nicked as her son let out a drawn out cry and stopping writhing. _

_"Henry!" _

_Her voice sounded just as slow as her movements were. It had to be magic. A trick of Neverland or of the Lost Ones. This horrible fight with time itself seemed to last for agonizing minutes and Emma's heart pounded in her chest as she struggled desperately to run faster, tears burning her eyes as the arrow drew nearer to her mother's body and she wished for the torture to be over, to end her misery and just get it over with._

_All of a sudden, as if her thought had spurred on the change, time resumed and she was moving so quickly that she tumbled forward, narrowly missing skewering herself on her own sword as her face scraped against the rocky ground _

_A loud, male 'umph', a sickeningly loud sound of flesh being pierced, and a quiet cry from Mary Margaret sent Emma's spinning head shooting upward from the gravel encrusted cave floor. Her eyes widened, her heartbeat faltering when she saw the boy that held Henry flying off of the ground and out of the cave, her son kicking and screaming as they went._

_"No!"_

_ Emma shakily drew herself to all fours and struggled to stand, her mind unable to process what she had just seen, when she remembered her mother. _

_"Mom?"_

_"Oh my god…" Snow's voice was soft and pained and the sound of Charming's feet scuffing through the dirt and gravel towards her followed her cry._

_That was when Emma saw him. _

_Hook. _

_His body was collapsed into a heap over Mary Margaret's as she tried to remove herself from the tangle of limbs. _

_"Hook!"_

_She rushed towards his crumpled body and just before she got to him, her father's strong arms were holding her back, her mother casting horrified looks behind her when she realized what had happened. That was when she saw why he wasn't moving. _

_The arrow. _

_It had pierced straight through his neck, dark, crimson blood oozing onto the ground beside him in a large puddle. His body was still. Dead. _

_"No…"_

_"Emma, stop! Emma! He's gone. We have to go. It's too dangerous. He's gone." _

_The words repeated over and over in her head, and she wondered how a person could go from being alive to dead so quickly. She was silently glad that she hadn't been forced to hear his last choked breaths of him drowning on his own blood, but she couldn't stop herself from struggling against her father, trying to drag them both to his unmoving figure. _

_He couldn't be dead. The stillness in his eyes said otherwise. _

_"He's gone."_

_"No!"_

_"Emma! He's dead!"_

Emma woke up with a start in a cold, spine-chilling sweat, the simultaneously nonsensical and all too real dream hanging over her like a fog. Her eyes burned with the tears that she had shed in her sleep, moisture fresh on her cheeks and neck making her skin stick together from her curled up position on the cot. Her heart was beating so quickly it hurt and she forced herself to take slow, heaving breaths in an effort to calm it.

Henry was gone. Henry was gone and Hook was dead. She remembered the steely blue of his lifeless eyes and the fear in Henry's face, the betrayal for not saving him as he was flung away from her yet again.

_It all felt so real._

Emma's feet hit the icy wood floor before she knew what she was doing and she walked swiftly to the door, only remembering to be quiet when she closed it gently on her way out, thankful that not even her light-sleeping mother had woken. Her first thought was to go above deck. It'd be freezing outside, but it would be real._ Actually_ real, not nightmare real. The chill would wake her up and snap her out of the dream-induced haze that she was still fighting.

It still _felt_ real.

Her bare foot hit the first step towards the door that would lead her to the main deck, when she saw the small hallway that led to his cabin out of the corner of her eye. Flashes of the arrow sticking into one side of his neck and out of the other in a perfect line, blood dripping out of his motionless body made her feel even colder. Her arms and legs were moving without her permission now as she opened the door to his room, and there was no courtesy of trying to sneak in silently.

He was sleeping when she entered, but only for a second before she saw his whole body tense and his eyes shoot open, his good hand instinctively reaching for the hook that rest on his bedside table.

"Emma?"

"Didn't mean to startle you…"

"Gods, woman. You scared the hell out of me," he sighed, chuckling at himself as he released the hook that his fingers were securely coiled around.

He was alive. He was ok. Henry was ok, wherever he was. It was all a dream. Just a stupid fucking dream. Now leave, Emma.

"You said your door was open…" This was _not_ leaving.

Realization spread over his face, amused and slightly shameful for being so surprised by her presence. "Fucking hell, Emma," he cursed sharply under his breath, sitting up in bed, his breathing still slightly labored as he let out a soft laugh to himself. "When I asked you to stay with me, I didn't expect it to be-" His eyes flitted to her fear-filled, pale face and sweat-drenched hair as she got closer, the dampness making pieces of it stick together and plaster themselves against her forehead and cheeks. "What's wrong?" He swung his legs over the side of his bed and stood up, the blanket slipping from his body to reveal himself to be completely bare of clothes.

She shouldn't be surprised. He didn't seem to type to _not _sleep naked, but despite herself, she found herself glancing over his taut stomach, his wide chest, his _neck_, the skin smooth and perfect… he was fine.

She hated how she had to keep telling herself that.

He appeared torn between moving closer and covering himself up – for her own sake, not his. After only a moment's thought, he settled on yanking a bureau drawer open, hastily taking out a pair of thin, beige, loose-fitting cloth pants and pulling them on hurriedly.

"What happened? Talk to me, love."

His particular inflection on the word 'love' seemed to snap her out of her zombie-like state. He hadn't just meant it as something he called all women, he had meant '_my_ love'. "I-I'm fine."

"No, you're not."

"It's nothing. I-I'm sorry for waking you," she turned to leave, but she knew that she would feel him pull her back the moment she did it.

"It's not nothing," he growled, pulling her towards him, expecting a fight that never came. "Emma," he whispered her name into her hair and held her close, feeling her tremble against him. "What's wrong?"

She looked into his face for a long, searching pause. "I don't want to talk about it."

Refusing to let him say another word, she fisted her hand into his shaggy hair and forced his lips against hers, kissing him roughly until he kissed her back, his arms wrapping around her frame like it was the most natural thing in the world. His good hand roamed everywhere at once, as if unsure of which part of her he wanted to touch first and every part of her was tingling_. This was what she had needed. Him. His touch. _She pushed her body harder into his, running her fingers up and down his back, the other hand still grasping bits of hair. _He was ok._ She tilted her hips forward so they were flush with his. _Alright, he was more than ok. _His kiss became more intense when he felt her body arching into his, rubbing against him and Emma's lungs were begging for air while her tongue slid against his, but she told herself _'just a few more seconds'_, struggling to breathe through her nose to avoid losing the exhilarating contact.

Killian seemed to have a greater sense of control than she did at the moment, and he pulled away from her lips first, leaning his forehead against hers and breathing hard. "What are you doing, Emma?"

Did he _have_ to ask her every single time?

"What does it look like?" she kissed the corner of his mouth, letting her hand drift out of his hair and to his shoulder, her fingers tracing patterns into a small scar there. She hadn't ever noticed it before.

"You look _tired_."

That was not the response that she had been expecting, if she had even been expecting any verbal response at all. She bit down on his lip in warning then kissed him again, moving her hand to his groin in a move to stroke him. Rather than press himself into her hand and part his lips in a breathy groan like she was used to, he grasped her wrist firmly and pushed it away from him before he lost all sense of control.

"There is no fee for you coming to my bed, love." He paused, watching her with an unsettling amount of scrutiny that made Emma want to turn around and run back to her horrible cot because he was _reading her _– but she couldn't. "…what was it about?"

"What?"

"The dream that brought you here. Was it about Henry?"

Her jaw tightened and there was that urge to run again. "I didn't have a dream, Hook."

He sighed and gave a quick shake of his head as he gently grasped her hand and led her towards his bed. She felt his arms draw her down with him and it felt good on her sore muscles, the bed still warm from the blankets and his body heat and it was too much to resist. But she still couldn't do it. She couldn't just sleep in his bed with him, not without something else, otherwise it would make her too vulnerable, too open. She slid a hand over his ribs and tugged him closer, her lips moving to cover his.

He pulled back, almost too sharply, because he immediately stopped tensing his muscles when he saw the brief hurt in her face.

"You're tired, Emma. Sleep."

She cocked her head to the side, confused but allowing herself to squirm just a tiny bit further into the covers. "Since when do you say no to sex?"

"Since I've decided we should stop using each other."

"…what do you think this is, Hook?" Again she was a liar. What they had was something more. Why else would she have come to him after a nightmare just to make sure that it hadn't been real?

"_Sleep_."

The word came out more weary than commanding as he placed her against his chest, spooning her – something that she hadn't experienced in years, unless it was related to sex. It was unsettling, but nice. As he slung his left arm over her body in an attempt to hold her closer, she abruptly became aware that he wasn't wearing the bulky contraption that was normally strapped to his arm, shocked that she hadn't noticed it earlier. She wasn't entirely sure that in his groggy state that _he_ had remembered it either, sure that he would have been ashamed for her to see it, much less feel it against her. She unexpectedly had the urge to look or even touch his maimed wrist, to feel the healed over skin. Instead, she scrunched her eyes shut further, allowing him that courtesy, feeling her entire body relax in the warmth of the bed and the warmth of him beside her.

"Thanks," she whispered, the urge to sleep beginning to overtake her.

"…sleep well, love."

The next morning, she awoke to find herself pleasantly warm and oddly comfortable, and the feeling was so unknown to her lately that she almost thought that she was back in Storybrooke like she had been in her dreams. She felt skin against her face and she became vaguely aware that she had it pressed against someone's chest, the gentle breathing becoming more obvious as she was pulled out of her dream of living back at Mary Margaret's and stroking a kitten that Henry had insisted on them keeping and was pushed back into reality.

"Did you need something, love?"

Emma opened her eyes and jerked back sharply when she realized that her hand had been moving slowly and lightly over the man's crotch in her sleep, the telltale bulge in the sheets giving away exactly what she had been doing while dreaming about kittens.

"I didn't say to stop," Hook mumbled his eyes still closed as if trying to drift back to sleep. "Waking up to a woman massaging your more… sensitive regions is remarkably relaxing."

She sat up quickly, a blush heating up her cheeks. How long had she been doing that? How long had he been awake? Wait. Why wasn't he trying to jump her right now? The worrying part was, he hadn't even sounded like he wanted to. He was just sleepy and _conten_t. More warning bells. Ok, Emma, time to go.

"It was an accident, my hand just, ended up there by accident. Don't read too much into it," she muttered, throwing the blanket off of her for good measure, because there was no way she was going to give into the temptation to lie back down with him now.

"And should I read something into you ending up in my bed in the middle of the night?"

"Probably not," she replied briskly as she plopped off of his bed, hoping that it was early enough that everyone else was still sleeping and would just think that she was getting an early start on the day when they finally made their way upstairs.

**~ASMG~**

Emma's felt her heart skip when the mass of land that looked similar to a large rock face on an island came into full view. She'd been waiting days to see this and it was finally in front of her. It was daunting. When she had first heard the name 'Skull Rock', she had assumed it was what it sounded like – a rock shaped like a skull, or maybe a small cave. It was still miles into the distance, but from the size of it now, it had to be enormous. The nightmarish outer appearance of the rock face did seem to be where the name had originated from, two holes for eyes and a bony opening for a mouth stared back at her ominously.

What a place for an evil villain hideout, huh? This wasn't going to be a simple glance around a cave.

She heard Hook's footsteps behind her, having locked the wheel to come take in the view, though what view he was taking in exactly was yet to be determined from how close he had come to pressing him hips into her back as he peered over her shoulder. She shook off the shudder that she felt down her spine from his being so close to her.

He walked beside her as if the touch hadn't happened, leaning his body forward against the railing of the ship casually. "Now that's a sight I haven't seen in years."

"Yeah. Wow." She hadn't meant to speak the word out loud, but the mere sight of it was intimidating and had her mind racing through all of the possibilities that could await them once they arrived. Lost Ones, the Shadow, some magic-hating company that Greg and Tamara worked for, hell, even cave monsters. Nothing could surprise her again after everything she'd seen in Neverland.

"What?"

"Nothing. I just… didn't expect it to be that big."

Emma froze. She had just made the worst possible wording choice known to man (and maybe even a few mythical creatures), especially five seconds after he had practically rubbed his hips into her back. _Dammit._ She felt his breath grow hotter against her neck before she heard him speak.

"Most don't, darling. Call it a pleasant surprise." The sex voice was back. Great.

More of those irksome chills, a dash of annoyance, and then a sprinkle of amusement.

Typical man.

"I meant the _rock_, if you can even call it that. It's like a small island. Just how much of it is there to explore?"

"A good day or two's worth at least. But I have an idea of where to look."

"So, you know this place?"

"I'm familiar with it," he smirked, his expression promising many a story that would most likely rival the ones in her own memory from hours of her childhood spent reading fairytales. "What do you think?"

"I think it looks fucking scary." Hook let out an unexpected bark of laughter and Emma glanced over at him sharply, offended. "What?"

"Just you, love. You're not afraid of giants or dragons, but a cave in the distance…"

"No, I'm pretty sure I was scared of both of those things."

"You just didn't let it stop you."

The admiring tone of voice he kept using on her was really starting to… she didn't know what it was doing to her exactly, but she wasn't sure if she liked it.

"So how much longer?"

"Early morning tomorrow." Noting the disappointed look on her face, he nodded towards the main island, continent, world – whatever Neverland was. "We'd arrive sooner, but we'll have to head towards the island so you and I can gather some more food today. We haven't been in days. There will be enough fresh water to get us by once we arrive at Skull Rock, but little else."

"You and me? Is Regina that bad at picking up fruit?" She raised an eyebrow.

Hook's tongue flicked over his lips and he had a devilish glint in his eyes. "I've never seen Regina particularly fail at anything besides killing me and keeping her lunch in rough waters. Most of the time, she's quite talented. Fruit picking included…" he let his words trail off suggestively. "Besides, if it results in what happened between us the next morning, I might be tempted to ask her…"

"Oh yeah? I remember it not ending so great for you."

"Come now, love. You and I both know that what you did affected you as much as it did me. If those pirates hadn't shown up, I could have convinced you to come to my bed with me a hundred times over."

"Sure. That's_ exactly_ what would have happened, Hook," she replied sarcastically.

"Well, maybe not a quite a hundred. I may be exceptional, but I'm still a man," he teased, letting his hand brush hers where it lay against the polished wood of the ship.

"Go steer the ship, Hook."

"Again with the bossiness. You'd think you were the bloody captain."

_Oh, I'll show you who's bossy_. _Wow, where did that thought even come from? Enough, Emma. Just stop looking at him._

She pressed her lips into a thin, mocking smile. "You keep dodging your job and I just might take it from you."

Hook opened his mouth to let another smart retort fly when he glanced behind her to see Charming walking towards them with a purpose. A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth as he released the railing and took a step back. "I see it's time to steer the ship." He disappeared before she had gotten the chance to question it.

Emma followed where his amused gaze had been. _Uh oh._ She'd been expecting this for a week. He was going to give her 'the talk', wasn't he?

"Hey."

"Hey, Emma. How are you holding up?"

"I'm ok. Just ready to get this over with, this whole Skull Rock thing," she laughed nervously, tightening her grip on the side of the ship.

Charming nodded solemnly, in silent agreement with the sentiment. "It creeps me out too... So you think we're gonna find something." It was a statement, not a question. Hook wasn't the only one who could read her from time to time.

"Yeah, I do. I've had a bad feeling about this place since I heard the name."

"Me too."

She couldn't believe how much he reminded her of herself sometimes, mannerisms, quirks, little feelings he had. She found that she had a lot more in common with David than she had initially realized, and it still freaked her out on occasion, but was also strangely comforting at the same time. It was nice to actually see the evidence of having a family.

"…How's Hook?"

_There it was._ "Lemme guess. She married you for your subtlety, didn't she?"

He joined her laughter, rubbing the back of his neck and looking away momentarily. "Hardly."

"I can save you the trouble though. I'm fine."

"Good," he nodded firmly, casting a wary glance at the pirate who was standing back at the helm. "Just making sure."

Emma turned her body so she could look at him, leaning back against the ship and eying him suspiciously. "That's it?"

"What did you think I was going to say?"

"I don't know. Something fatherly about waiting for true love, kicking asses of people who hurt your daughter, that I'm feeling vulnerable right now and I should be careful?"

"Did you want me to say those things? Because I've thought up some really good speeches. One of them even has references to torture that would make Gold cringe," he chuckled, shaking his head, a look of regret crossing his expression at what he was about to say. "You're the same age as I am, Emma. As much as I _really_ want to assume he's taking advantage of you and punch him in the face again…" he paused and heaved a heavy sigh. "I lost my chance to do that the minute we decided to send you away. You're an adult. Now it's just my place to be your friend."

"Wow. David, I didn't ex-"

"I know," he turned to leave before the moment could get sappier, stopping midstep without looking back at her. "But Emma? …If he hurts you I'll stab him with his own hook so fast, he won't know what hit him."

**~ASMG~**

"Shit!" Emma cursed loudly as she tripped in a hidden hole in the ground, only catching herself by grabbing at the back of Hook's coat frantically, causing him to stumble and throw his arm backwards to steady both her and himself. It was late afternoon and they had finally made it back to the mainland to gather supplies, but the common chore was proving to be more difficult than usual. "Stupid fucking-" She didn't even bother to finish. That's what she got for letting her mind wander to _those _sorts of places.

"Something wrong, love?" Hook teased, the look on his face practically dripping with amusement. "First day on land?"

"Nothing," she grumbled, choosing to ignore his comment. Nothing except that he'd been teasing her all week to the point where she was daydreaming about shoving him up against a tree and having her way with him rather than watching where she was going. Nothing but _that_. She tripped again, as if on cue. How many damn holes were there around here? And why the hell wasn't he tripping too? "This fucking piece of shit island!"

He laughed at her, removing his arm from where it had wrapped around her waist as he continued on through jungle. "I believe the term is 'curse like a sailor' not 'curse like a princess', love."

"_Not_ a princess."

"I'm quite certain you are. A bloody terrible one at that. Princesses are supposed to be poised, well-mannered …_virginal_ until wed_. _We both know you aren't any of those."

"Oh shutup, Hook."

"To be honest, I'm not entirely sure what you are, love – and I mean that as a compliment," he backtracked smoothly after noticing the annoyance in her expression increasing.

"Yeah? Maybe you just don't know me as well as you think." She wanted to believe it was true, but it came out feeling like a lame excuse when she remembered how some of the looks he gave her made her feel like he could read her thoughts.

"Maybe not," he conceded, pushing a large piece of brush out of the way so she could walk past him. "We haven't exactly taken the time to get to know each other."

"We've lived on a ship together for almost 4 months."

"And how many questions have you asked me about myself?"

Emma was shaken. It was a strange thought. They hadn't really ever sat and gotten to know each other. There was the banter, the arguing, the working together as a team… _the sex,_ and as much as they felt about each other, as well as they knew each other, she couldn't think of a single time that they had actually stopped to learn the details. It wasn't something that she had ever been concerned with.

"What's your favorite color, Lass?"

"Seriously? What? Do you wanna have a drink and play '20 Questions'?"

"I'm not sure that I'm familiar with that game, but if it involves rum and you, I think I'd enjoy it."

"You just wanna get me drunk."

"Gods," he sighed playfully, bending to pick up a fallen piece of fruit and place it in his bag. "Now that you mention it, the idea isn't entirely undesirable."

"Fine. There's a question. Why do you say that?"

He let out an amused snort. "That I want to get you drunk?"

"Gods," she corrected. It wasn't something that she had heard her parents say, and she had to admit that she was curious. He didn't exactly seem like the religious type.

He paused, picking up another piece of fruit, as if he were surprised by the question and mulling it over at the same time, deciding on the best way to answer.

"Well?"

"I suppose I say it because I grew up around sailors," he replied with a nonchalant rise and fall of his shoulders. "Many seafaring men pray to gods of sea and weather on stormy nights. Not something I ever particularly felt inclined towards, at least not more than simply out of fear. Why? Are you offended by my blasphemy to your singular divinity?" he grinned mischievously, peering back at her over his shoulder. "And I suppose all those cries were you simply praying? I'm hurt, love. And all this time, I thought that you were referring to me."

"I'm not dignifying that with an answer."

"I think you just did."

She rolled her eyes, ignoring him. "Trust me. I've never been the praying type," she scoffed, reaching up to a tree next to them for a large, round purple fruit with bumpy skin, tugging it from its branch. "I guess when you've never seen a lot of favors thrown your way, you start to think stuff like that doesn't exist. That, or they just suck. I make my life what it is. If I'm wrong, well, I'm wrong about a lot of things." There was a heavy silence as they both continued to pick the various, odd shaped fruits from the trees around them. "… and red. My favorite color is red."

Hook clucked his tongue, smirking softly as he dropped a couple of small, orange fruits resembling plums into the bag, along with the odd purple ones.

"What?"

"There was just a time that I was rather partial to it myself."

"Now your favorite color is black, huh?"

"It suits me well enough."

Emma got the distinct impression from his tone that he wasn't talking about the contrast between the black coat and the blue of his eyes. "I don't know… some color _could be_ nice."

"Perhaps one day... It's your turn, Swan."

She rolled her eyes. He really intended to continue this. "I guess I don't have to bother asking what your favorite alcohol is?"

"Pirate, love. Though I consider myself a connoisseur of a variety of types of the fairer of beverages. You should drink with me sometime."

"I tried once. You took it away from me."

"...I didn't trust myself around you then."

"You trust yourself around me now?" Suddenly the urge to push him against that tree and tear his clothes off was crawling back. "And it's your turn."

There was a pregnant pause, both of them remaining still as they waited. "How many times have you thought about having me again since that night?"

"That's not the right kind of question, Hook."

"You only say that because you have thought of it. Often." The bag was dropped lightly to the ground and suddenly he was looking at her with a predatory gaze, as if waiting for her to make the next move.

"Once or twice."

"_Every night_." The casual steps he took towards her conflicted with the dark lust in his voice.

He was at her side, his hand caressing her arm, his face inching closer. "Once or twice," she repeated stubbornly.

"Every time you bloody _look_ at me," he eased the bag out of her sudden vice grip, letting it fall to the ground with his as his breath ghosted over her neck.

This was escalating way too quickly, just like it always did with him. "Hook."

"You're thinking about it now. Feeling me in you again."

She swallowed hard and her eyes fluttered closed as he finally bridged the short gap to her neck, kissing at her pulse point gently, slowly trailing a path with his lips from there to just underneath her chin.

"You don't think about it?"

That was it.

It could have been everything that had happened that week, but there was something about the way he liked to whisper things against her skin while he kissed her, his words sounding muffled and somehow more attractive, that got her heart pounding. Without letting him get another word in, Emma put both hands against his chest and pushed hard, too preoccupied with yanking her shirt over her head to see the momentarily puzzled look on his face.

"What are you waiting for?"

He glanced around quickly, as if still innocently stunned that she was actually doing this after being shunned all week, while surveying the spot that they were in for danger – something Emma thought he really should have done earlier before touching her like that. Within seconds, his eyes were locked back on her and his coat was on the ground, her jeans and panties quickly following it.

"You might wanna move a little faster."

"I try not to make it a habit to finish first," he quipped cheekily, winking at her.

"That really bothered you, didn't it?"

"Well, I am a gentleman. No respectable man wants to leave his lover unsated."

Is that what they were now? _Lovers?_

Again, he read her mind too easily. "I think we're past the stage of being able to call it an accident," he continued, undoing the buttons of his shirt, leaving it on but loosely hanging at his shoulders as he lunged towards her and pressed her against the very tree she had just been thinking about having him against.

All attempts at civil conversation were gone as his lips slanted against hers and she couldn't think about how wrong or right this was any longer. His hook was dug into the tree behind her and from the way that they were both moving, she knew that this was going to be fast, but she didn't care. She felt like she had been wanting this so much longer than the few days it had been since she had him last. Emma bucked her hips forward as he kissed her deeply, his tongue sliding along hers as his good hand went to his own pants to eagerly draw his hard length out.

Emma's eyes widened when she felt him already lining himself up, rubbing against her teasingly for a moment as he kissed her, his tip pressing lightly against her entrance, for once, his own lust not allowing for foreplay. She didn't need it. She braced herself against the tree and ran her hands underneath his shirt and over his shoulders for support, wrapping both legs around his waist. The action caused him to sink into her a couple of inches and he gasped at the shock, his hand quickly moving from his groin to her hip, so he could support her more fully.

"Trying to kill me," he muttered weakly, resting his forehead against her neck, the immovability of the tree and his efforts to support her weight pushing him even deeper inside of her, still struggling to keep them both balanced in the new and vulnerable position.

After a minute, he slowly drew himself back and Emma found herself holding her breath, waiting for him to move. Just when she was opening her mouth to tell him to hurry up, his hips jerked forward, and her unspoken protests turned into a strangled shout. She was giving herself over to him already and she knew it, her entire body submitting to him, wanting him. Emma's back scraped against the smooth bark of the tree as his movements steadily became more rhythmic, creating long, red burns down her pale skin, but it was the last thing she was worried about as he thrust into her again, this time burying himself in her to the hilt with a loud grunt.

"One day I'll take my time with you," he groaned out, pulling his hips back, only to return to her with a passionate force that made her body shake. "In a bed. _All _night. _Taste_ you. _Feel you_ as long as bloody possible," his voice cracked on the last word, each promise punctuated with a thrust, his voice strained and heavy with desire. "And I won't just have you once…"

His words sent small thrills through her body, able to do little other than to cling to him tightly, legs wrapped firmly around his waist and let him continue to push into her over and over again. The sensations were incredible, blinding. She barely felt the sting of the tree rubbing into her or the bruises that would form on it or her hips. It all blended into a powerful pleasure, his teasing and baiting, _her feelings_ for him all week leading to this inevitable release of tension.

Then all at once, his meaning hit her like a ton of bricks.

He wasn't idly speaking about having her thoroughly in his cabin. He was talking about _Storybrooke_. He wanted to _make love_ to her for hours and he needed to stop saying the daring words because at this moment, it didn't sound so bad to her.

"I just want this," she gasped out.

"I'll give you _more than this_," he ignored her, his mouth open and hot on her skin, leaving moist patches as he kissed and licked and sucked her neck all the way down to her shoulder, the cadence of his thrusts never faltering.

"I like _this_," she moaned out through grit teeth, vaguely aware of her fingernails digging scratches into his back under the cloth of his shirt, deeper than she had intended when he angled his next thrust just right. "_Oh god_. Right there."

"There?" he teased in a quiet rasp, repeating his movement, making her let out a loud, surprised-sounding curse as she melted into him even further, their bodies moving as one.

He continued to thrust in the same pattern that was sending shocking bolts of pleasure straight to her core, building and building, and Emma could feel herself losing her all resolve to make this just sex. It wasn't just her body submitting, but her mind and it was freeing. It wasn't just sex. It was her. It was him. It was her wanting him more than anything and her body reacting to the feelings that she pretended not to have.

"Say my name."

"_Killian_." She obeyed the request without thought, the name leaving her mouth as naturally as breathing. She didn't want to stop him from talking anymore, she didn't want to try to hold herself back. It wouldn't have mattered if she had wanted to, because she could hear herself whimpering and gasping and moaning into him as she held on for dear life, letting him take her, _loving_ him taking her and there's no way that she could have stopped if he didn't.

"Gods, I love hearing you say it."

"Killian," she said his name louder this time, wanting to please him, wanting this to be about more than her.

Hook's own groans rumbled in his throat, and she felt even more aroused every time she heard him, his sounds of pleasure causing her own to continue to rise torturously, as if it would keep growing and never release. Emma gasped and tensed when he angled his next drive into her slightly upwards, pushing her harder into the tree causing a few scattered leaves to drift down lazily onto them. Words and sounds tumbled out of both of them in a blur, their bodies pumping and clawing and moving with the other frantically._ Oh fuck._ It was too much.

"_I love-"_

The sharp moan followed by the two, terrifying words shoved Emma out of her dizzy haze like a slap in the face. _No, no, no. Not yet. Don't ruin this._ She needed this release too badly, she needed to keep feeling him, to keep feeling _this _– whatever it was - and those words were too dangerous to think about when all that was in her head was how amazing he felt and how she never wanted him to stop.

Killian's hips stuttered for a moment, the volume of his moans increasing as he thrust into her again roughly. "Oh gods, yes, Emma. Tell me what you love," he moaned huskily into her neck, his voice unbridled and raw with passion as he bit possessively at the faded hickey in the spot where her shoulder and neck met, determined to bring his mark on her to its full bright color.

Emma's entire body tensed and her stomach dropped. All thoughts of her impending orgasm and how good he somehow smelled or how safe she felt in his 'embrace' against the tree, even naked in the middle of the Neverland jungle were gone in an instant when she realized that the words had come from her. All she could think was that she didn't want this to stop and she had to fix it.

"_This_. I love this. Fuck!" She cried, her hips bucking slightly when he hit that spot again inside of her that made her shudder.

It wasn't a lie.

She hadn't known she had even said the words, much less, how she had intended to finish the sentence and right now _this_ felt too good not to love it. She was so close, but the panic created by her words, creeping inside of her chest and squeezing was just enough to hold it off. Every thought came in short, near unintelligible stutters in her head as he continued to claim her.

"Killian," she sighed into his neck, cursing him in her thoughts for getting to her, for being able to draw these feelings out of her, while praising him out loud, her body aching from the position they were in, but screaming for release.

This time he wasn't begging her to come with him to bring them both over the edge. It wasn't so desperate, so uncontrolled, so possessive as the other times had each been. He was all lust and passion, just as she was, his movements only getting more determined, harder, faster with every passing second, taking her breath away with each drive into her.

"You feel _so good_, Emma."

She felt his lips moving against her neck, his breath hot and ragged as he mumbled the words and she kissed wherever she could reach as her release built, his lips, his cheek, his jaw. Her vision swam behind her tightly closed lids, splotches of white shapes amongst the black bursting in time with her sparks of pleasure that had begun to come in slower, longer waves as the seconds passed. She hadn't even realized her orgasm was upon her quite yet until she heard herself cry out loudly and without warning, it was there. She felt almost dizzy from the force of it, one hand scraping new red lines near the scar on his shoulder, the other tightening into his hair definitely hard enough to hurt as she tugged and writhed against him, struggling to elongate her pleasure with an animalistic sense of urgency and need. Her speech became a massive tangle of curses and moans and his name, and she was only vaguely aware of it as his own body jolted and shuddered against hers, stilling and gripping her even more tightly as his own whimper pierced the jungle.

_She loved that sound._ For all the growls and groans and manly grunts that she heard him cry out during sex, nothing compared to the higher pitched gasps and whimpers she heard when he came, all dominance and bravado gone as he gave into her, just like he made her give in to him. Emma loosened her fingers in his hair and whispered sweet nothings of how good he had felt as he rode out his release, her own high still making her thoughts hazy, barely aware of what she was saying, only of how her body was humming with pleasure and a new sense of calm.

They had been loud, that much she knew. They were probably going to be eaten by some Neverland beast when they gathered themselves enough to realize it, but even that thought couldn't pull her out of the moment, the aftershocks of her orgasm still rocking through her as his hips shifted back and forth in shallow thrusts, his breath coming in soft gasps. Gradually, his movements stopped and the fog cleared, the sting in her back and the ache in her legs from cramping around his waist came back to her.

Emma hardly realized it as his legs gave out, and he only barely caught himself and her, his hook still stabbed loosely into the opposite side of the tree bark keeping them from falling into the dirt entirely. After a moment of failing to try to steady his shaky legs, Killian let them fall, his back taking the brunt of the blow, a small huff of air leaving his lungs as her weight collapsed against his. Quiet, breathy sighs filled the air and for the first time, she just wanted to cuddle against his chest and sleep, regardless of the fact that her knees were pressing into the dirt and leaves, or that they were both vulnerable in the middle of Neverland, or that it was almost nightfall and just about anything could happen upon them, or even that there was anyone out there waiting for them on the Jolly Roger. Exhaustion and relief and an amazing sense of comfort overcame her as she felt his chest rise and fall beneath her cheek, the fingers of his good hand tracing circles into her lower back and his hooked arm lying limp and useless at his side.

"We need to head back, love."

"No."

"Come again?" he chuckled softly, rubbing her back more firmly.

"Just… give me a minute, ok?"

A wide smirk crossed his face. "That good, darling?"

Oh damn him and that lusty rasp and his pet names that would have made her want to jump him if she hadn't just done that. She refused to reply, settling for a groan of annoyance instead.

"Emma..."

"I said no." She just wanted this to last a little bit longer.

"Emma!"

"What?" _Damn him_ for being so infuriating. For once she was the one that wanted to stay and bask in the glow and he wouldn't let her.

"As much as I hate to ruin a moment like this, there's a very large spider crawling towards my arm and I'd very much like to move it."

_Ok, fine. He wins this time.  
_

* * *

_**A/n: Ok, that was just a bit of angst mixed with lots of snark and smexyness. I hope you enjoyed it! There will be a bit more angst and a bit more fluff for the last chapter, and of course ALOT of explaining to do, since it will be the end. **_

_**Review?**_


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